


Leashed

by tiny_freakin_head



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, BDSM, Biting, Blossoming relationship, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Collars, Crossfaction, D/s, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Fisting, Flogging, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marijuana, Mushrooms, OTK, Oral, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Topping from the Bottom, Voyeurism, bratty sub, stalking (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:46:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 65,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Some of us want to be collared, some of us want to hold the leash~~~This is a silly 100 and some page fic that delves pretty far into a bdsm relationship. Enjoy!This one is by both halves of tiny-freakin-headWe'll add tags as they come up





	1. The Festival

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/gp/182521236@N04/q0s18J)

 

 

This was the second furlough since the teams had begun their war, and the BLU Spy was still gathering intel on the enemy team. The first furlough, Spy had decided to trail the RED Engineer. He’d followed him as far as the Conagher ranch and then was forced to turn around so he wouldn’t end up in a trap or shot. From there he’d stalked Medic as he pretended to be a hapless tourist and collected the organs of anyone who dared try to mug him. 

It had been eye-opening.

This furlough, he planned to follow Sniper, and he was hoping the bushman wasn’t planning on returning to the wild, where he seemed to originate. The man hadn’t made any concrete plans. It seemed like he was just going to drive his camper somewhere.

 

*

 

Sniper felt the weight of tension and paranoia sliding off him with each wheel-turn away from the base. He’d gotten used to having people — constant people, always the  _ same _ people — around all the time. Sort of. He didn’t freeze like a stunned rabbit every time someone said good morning to him unexpectedly, but it definitely wasn’t his ideal situation. 

He laughed softly to himself—his teammates would surely find his furlough location very out of character. He wouldn’t have thought he’d enjoy it, either, but it had become something of a tradition—not every year, but whenever he found himself in the area at the right time. He’d been pleased to find it lined up with his furlough this year. 

He’d gone the first time because…well, he couldn’t entirely remember, to be honest, beyond handsome face, tanned skin, warm lips… 

There was already a line of campers—and vehicles of every other kind—in haphazard rows in the middle of the field. He found a spot that suited him and parked. He folded his forearms on the steering wheel, just taking a moment to soak it in before immersing himself: the stage set up a few hundred metres ahead looked like a strong wind might collapse it, but it had survived every other year. It was still empty, but the sound of music came from all around him, from car radios and impromptu groups of musicians. 

There were people everywhere, swarming like ants at a picnic, so many people that he  _ should  _ have been afraid, or at least uncomfortable, but none of them paid any attention to him—he might get a second look because of his height, but he was far from the most eye-catching person. He could flow through them anonymously, surrounded but not overwhelmed. And he had a secret weapon. He opened his glove box and rolled himself a generous joint. He rolled down the window, and soon the scent had drawn a few individuals from the mob. Already feeling loose-limbed and steady, he climbed out of the cab and shared it around, catching the eye of a particularly handsome young man, hoping they’d find one another again later. 

Spy became more and more curious as they went, him trailing after Sniper. Sniper sat in the cab of his camper for some time after he arrived at the busy festival, and a few people came to greet him. He came out and seemed to talk to a few of them, effortlessly. His posture was relaxed, in a way Spy had never seen. 

He picked through his many disguises before settling on a younger man, who looked to be in his late twenties, with long dark hair and dark eyes; a disguise modelled after someone he’d admired in his youth.

He picked his way through the festival as Sniper moved on, watching him while blending in with the crowd. This was the last place he’d expect Sniper to come. It was so crowded that he had to press between groups of people to keep up with his target. The mass of people was almost overwhelming even for Spy, and Sniper could barely deal with eight on a regular basis.

What was different about this place? Was he meeting someone?

If Soldier was here, he’d have quite a lot to say about the amount of hippies.

Sniper walked until he felt he’d come to the right place, and then he sat on a hideous, brightly coloured blanket with a group of men and women engaged in earnest—if rather distracted—conversation. Hands roamed freely, braiding hair, stroking arms and legs and faces. For a moment he was uncomfortably aware that all or at least most of them were a few years younger than him, that he no longer quite fit in the way he had in his early years of coming to these festivals, but then a doe-eyed young woman passed him another joint, her fingertips stroking his knuckles. A breath later, his discomfort was forgotten, and he was nodding earnestly as she told him about the dangers of what she called ‘a corporate lifestyle.’

Oh, Spy realized, Sniper was getting high with them. That explained his relaxed posture, why he was voluntarily surrounding himself with people.

Well, that was interesting. Spy would have thought that Sniper would be too paranoid to allow himself to enjoy something like that. He knew that for himself, being high around a lot of strangers would be too much. Even getting high by himself, he often found that his paranoia only increased and soon enough he’d be convinced that old enemies would find him and that he had to disappear. So he limited himself to drinking and cigarettes.

Spy continued to follow him, watching him flirt with strangers, and watching strangers flirt with him. Maybe this was part of what Sniper liked about being here—easy, anonymous sex.

Sniper moved easily from group to group, nothing dictating his movements but his own whims—or, occasionally, especially bad guitar playing. As dusk fell and the first band took to the stage, he clapped and yelled along with the rest of the crowd, settling on his side and letting the music sweep over him. He fished a plastic baggie out of his trouser pocket and unfolded it, inhaling the deep, woodsy smell of the mushrooms within. He handed a few out to those around him who were interested, then ate one himself—best to start slowly. He could always take more later if he wanted. 

Spy watched in disbelief. Not only was Sniper smoking pot, but now he was doing mushrooms. Mushrooms which Spy was willing to bet he’d picked himself somewhere in the woods. He stifled his laughter. This was so far out of his expectations of Sniper’s furlough plans. He made himself comfortable in a group of men and women not too far from Sniper. A stranger began ranting to him about the government. Spy tuned her out for the most part, just nodding when it seemed like she was waiting for a response. If he seemed a little out of it, surely he’d just fit in better. 

He kept his eyes on Sniper, watching him share freely with strangers, touching and being touched. Sniper flinched away from even a friendly hand on his shoulder when he was on his base. How was he so different here? Surely it couldn’t be the drugs alone. 

Sniper closed his eyes in pleasure, feeling the mushroom’s effects beginning to kick in. The edges of the world softened and blurred, and the music began to gently pulse with colour and emotion as he listened. He laid his head in a nearby, welcoming lap, humming with pleasure as unseen hands stroked his hair. 

As Spy watched, Sniper sank nearly into sleep, eyes half closed, submitting to the affection of a strange woman. It would be safe now to get closer. Sniper seemed only half-present. 

Spy walked over to the group, sitting closest to Sniper—at his feet—in an effort to keep strange men and women from touching him. He pretended to be engrossed in the music, what he could hear over the shouting, anyway. 

Movement drew Sniper’s attention to the shadowy figure sitting near his feet, and he sat up unsteadily. “Your aura is beautiful.” Most of the people around him were surrounded by flowing, coloured shimmers, but this man’s glowed like a beacon, full of rich and shifting patterns he couldn’t look away from. He frowned. “I’ve seen you before. Today. You following me?”

“Just wandering.” Spy smiled at him. His accent was American, his voice just dissimilar enough to not be recognized. “Maybe I was just drawn to you.”

“I’m definitely drawn to you!” Sniper laughed, patting his legs, inviting the man to lie back on them. He wanted to feel that hair in his hands, see if he liked being tugged or gentled best, maybe lean even farther forward to kiss his soft, full lips. 

Spy kept in his surprised laughter and lay against his enemy, letting his head rest on Sniper’s abdomen, his hand laying against his thigh. So far it seemed as though Sniper was happy to get attention from men or women, but Spy couldn’t pin down if he was bisexual or not. It was possible he was just so relaxed that it didn’t matter who touched him.

Sniper’s hand ambled down the other man’s chest until it reached the fingers resting on his thigh. He stroked them gently, flexing each one individually before extending the stranger’s thumb so it just brushed his groin, quickly releasing it in case he wasn’t interested in more than a cuddle. 

This new version of Sniper was absolutely delighting Spy. He kept his thumb extended, slowly tracing the pad of it against the bulge he’d been pulled up against. He turned his head to look up at Sniper as he did. He had to admit, he’d had some fantasies about the rough bushman. He was vicious in battle, and surprisingly handsome. They had some kind of chemistry between them when they fought knife to kukri, and Spy was sure he wasn’t the only one to feel it.

Shivering with delight, Sniper leaned back so he was propped on one hand, head resting between his shoulders. He gently stroked the man’s hair, hoping he’d do more, but content with whatever happened between them. 

Feeling rather bold in his disguise, Spy turned in Sniper’s lap to press his mouth to Sniper’s hardening cock through his pants.

Sniper hummed with pleasure, his grip tightening on the other man’s hair. He fancied he could feel his breath through his jeans, a spiralling cascade of pleasure that threatened to sweep him away—and he’d let it. He gave his hair a sharp tug, pulling his head closer. “Want to go somewhere more private?” 

Spy could practically feel his pupils dilate as his hair was pulled and he made a soft sound — somewhere between pleasure and unhappiness at having been taken away from Sniper’s cock. He nodded. Feigning  ignorance he asked, “You have a car?”

“Camper.”

He smiled, standing, brushing his own pants off, and offering Sniper a hand up.

Grinning, Sniper took the proffered hand eagerly. He shook himself like a horse once on his feet. “This way.” He set his hand on the other man’s far hip, part guiding, part possessive. 

Spy was happy to let himself be wrapped up and held. He followed Sniper through the mass of people back to his little camper. Though he’d been in once before — his first week on the job had included a lot of sneaking into people’s private spaces—he looked around as though it was new to him. 

Eager now, Sniper hurried them both over to the bed, already shedding clothes.

Spy had an uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he sat on the bed. He didn’t take off any clothes yet, waiting for Sniper to sit with him.

Sniper stood fully naked in front of the other man. Noting his hesitant expression, he gave a strand of the other man’s long hair a gentle tug in the direction of his groin, but quickly released it when the stranger shied away more. “You alright?” he asked, his words glowing faintly green in the darkness. 

Spy pulled him down to the bed. “Before we go any further, I have to show you something.” With a sigh, he removed his mask, putting it down on the counter near the bed. His disguise melted away.

Sniper blinked, and it felt like his eyes were closed for a very long time. He couldn’t tell if he was completely surprised or not at all, but either way the moment felt bizarrely…inevitable. Still, he couldn’t keep the question from leaving his mouth—“Spy?”

He nodded. “I was curious to see what you did on furlough.” He smirked. “This is about the opposite of what I expected. It didn’t feel quite right to fuck without letting you know.”

“You…still want to, though?” Sniper asked. It felt like his dick was about to launch itself free and take a circle around the camper, so he held on to it to keep it in place. He felt like there were other questions he  _ should _ be asking, but he couldn’t think of any of them right now.

Spy undid his shirt and pulled off the rest of his clothes, letting his actions speak for themselves. He pushed Sniper down to the pillows, settled himself between his enemy’s thighs, and took his cock in his mouth.

Sniper hummed, a wordless exultation. He pillowed his head on his hands, propping himself up a little so he could watch the Spy. He laughed a cloud of golden butterflies. “You do  _ this _ with everyone else?”

Spy shot him a look, but didn’t want to pull away to argue. The weight of Sniper’s cock settled nicely on his tongue and he moaned, the sound muffled. He let it slide further into his mouth, suppressing his gag reflex until he took Sniper to the root.

“God,” Sniper groaned, his fingers intertwining in the Spy’s hair—much shorter, without the mask—gently keeping him from pulling away too far. “I…” His face blushed as red as his cock. “...Might’ve thought about doing this,” he admitted. 

Spy’s suspicions were confirmed and he was pleased. Sniper had fantasized about him too. It gave him a satisfied glow. His hands wandered up over Sniper’s thighs, over his hip bones, up his sides. He dug his nails in and drew them back down to his thighs.

“Good at this, aren’t you?” Sniper murmured, stroking the side of the Spy’s face with one thumb. “Should’ve known, pretty little thing like you.” He knew he was rambling, but he made no effort to keep the words from pouring out of him, even though he distantly realized he normally wouldn’t say them.  _ “God,  _ Spy! Just want to…fuck your mouth. Come in your mouth. Watch you swallow—” His hips bucked and his head fell back with an audible  _ thump  _ as it hit the camper’s wall, but he hardly noticed. 

Spy pulled back for a few breaths through his nose, teasing back Sniper’s foreskin to lick and suck at the head of his cock, bobbing his head a little further each time.

“Not so mean and witty with your mouth stuffed full, are you?” Sniper teased, the last word fading into a sharp gasp of pleasure, eyes rolling back in his head. 

At that, Spy pulled away momentarily, breathing hard. “Would you prefer that?” His hand stroked Sniper’s cock while he spoke, not wanting to tease him too much. 

“Ah,  _ fuck!”  _ Sniper groaned, laughing breathlessly. “I don’t know! I just want…unh!” He wrapped his hand around Spy’s, urging him to stroke a little faster, tighten his grip a fraction. 

Spy couldn’t help a laugh, but did as Sniper wanted. Again, he took the head of Sniper’s cock in his mouth, sucking as his hand stroked the rest of his length.

“Spy, Spy, Spy!” Sniper gasped, each repetition a little higher, a little faster. “I’m…” His warning faded into a whine, and his hips bucked again, forcing himself down Spy’s throat as he came. 

Spy pinned down his hips at the last second, trying to keep himself from being choked. He swallowed eagerly, and upon pulling away, he nestled into the soft hollow of Sniper’s hip, pressing a kiss there before sinking his teeth in hard, sucking at the skin to leave a deep red hickey.

Sniper cried out beneath him, revelling in the feeling of being held down as he rode out his orgasm. He murmured contentedly, assuming Spy was settling in for a quick snuggle. He sat bolt upright when he felt Spy’s teeth sink in, shouting hoarsely with pleasure. He stared down at the Spy with something close to shock, breathing heavily. It didn’t make sense, and yet…there was the bite, red and perfect, on his hip. “He couldn’t know. It has to be a coincidence.” 

“Couldn’t know what?” Spy grinned, getting out from between Sniper’s thighs and flopping down on the bed next to him. There wasn’t much room; it left them wonderfully entangled.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” Sniper asked, wide-eyed.

“You’re saying them out loud,” Spy laughed.

“Saying… Oh! That makes sense. Didn’t mean to  _ say  _ that bit.” He blinked. “Did you know, or were you just guessing?”

“I may have gone through some of your photos.”

“You might’ve… You little shit!” But Sniper was laughing, even as he reached over to give Spy’s skinny arm a pinch. “I don’t just leave those lying about, you know!”

“I’m aware.” He smirked. “I’m a curious man.”

“A curious  _ pest, _ you mean!” Sniper shook his head. “A little…sex pest.” He pressed Spy against himself, intentionally smothering him for a second.

Spy struggled briefly, making a face. He rutted a little against Sniper’s thigh, suggestively.

Sniper grinned, reaching down to gently cup Spy’s privates in one calloused palm. “Be rude of me to not return the favour, wouldn’t it? What do you want?”

“Suck me off,” Spy said, but before he let go of Sniper, he leaned in to bite the man’s neck, pulling back roughly, sucking the skin into his mouth.

“All ri—fuck!” Sniper’s eyes fluttered shut and he pressed himself as close to Spy as he could get. “Kinda hard if you keep doing that, mate,” Sniper breathed, once Spy had let go. 

“Mm, I’ll let you go,” he laughed, kissing the red mark he’d left behind.

“Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” Sniper clarified. “Just that, if that’s what you want…that might not be the best way to get it.” 

Spy smirked, grabbing Sniper by the hair and pushing him down between his thighs.

“Well! You’re not shy about asking, are you?” Sniper laughed. He settled himself comfortably, slowly sliding one hand up and down the length of Spy’s shaft, getting a feel for him and teasing himself—and Spy—a little before satisfying both of them. He’d gotten off already, but he also considered sucking a man off a pleasure all its own. 

“Never have been,” Spy agreed. His fingers, tangled in Sniper’s hair, were a little gentler now that he was getting what he wanted. He hummed appreciatively as Sniper gave him a few exploratory strokes.

“I’d rather that than you making me guess the way you do with everything else.” Just a moment longer, and he’d give in to temptation and take that long slender cock in his mouth. 

Spy’s cock twitched against Sniper’s hand in anticipation of his hot, wet mouth. He gave his hair an encouraging tug.

“All right, all right,” Sniper laughed. He lowered his mouth, softly breathing warm air on Spy’s erection before sliding his lips over the head. He closed his eyes with pleasure, to better savour the moment. There was always something special and exciting about sucking a man off for the first time, Sniper had found—though it probably didn’t help that he usually only  _ spent _ a night or two with most of the men he slept with, making most of his liaisons first times.

Spy gave a soft moan, tilting his head back. “That’s it,” he breathed. 

Encouraged, Sniper slid a little deeper, humming softly as his lips stretched to accommodate Spy’s cock. It was long enough to present at least a bit of a challenge, but slender enough that his jaw shouldn’t ache, no matter how long Spy took to finish. Though, from the state of him, Sniper didn’t think he’d take all that long. 

“Mm, yes, take all of me, just like that.” It wasn’t clear if Spy was praising him or instructing him.

Sniper rolled his eyes—of course Spy would need to take command of a  _ blowjob. _ Still…he couldn’t say he minded the praise. Shifting slightly, bracing one hand on each of Spy’s thighs— _ ha _ —he angled his throat and took Spy even deeper. 

“Ahh,” Spy breathed, stroking the side of Sniper’s face. “Good, good, just a little longer.” He struggled to keep himself from cumming right away. He wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could. Even if this had been a fantasy for some time, he could wait. He wanted to wait.

That sounded like a challenge, and Sniper accepted. Hollowing his cheeks, he drew Spy’s full length into his mouth. 

Spy made a strangled sound, rolling his hips up into Sniper’s mouth, unable to keep himself still any longer. “Fuck — ” he managed. “Ease off, pull back a little,” he instructed. If he wanted to last, he needed to edge himself.

Mentally grinning to himself, Sniper pushed back against Spy’s hips, keeping as much of Spy in his mouth as he could. 

“Stop that,” Spy growled.

Sniper shivered a little, enjoying the note of overwhelmed command in Spy’s voice. Still, he wasn’t going to give in that easily. He sucked harder, eyes watering as he struggled to keep Spy deep in his throat. 

“Fuck!” Spy tugged at Sniper’s hair. He was right on the edge, he wasn’t going to last much longer if Sniper kept this up. 

Pretending to relent for a moment, Sniper withdrew…only to lavish Spy’s head with his tongue while he wrapped one hand around the base of Spy’s cock, teasing the underside with his thumb.

“Mm—better,” Spy groaned, then rolled his hips again as Sniper teased the head of his cock. “Just a finger and thumb, tight around the base,” he instructed. 

Sniper’s resolve broke at that—he couldn’t resist the shiver of pleasure he felt at obeying Spy. He uncurled three of his fingers, leaving only his index finger and thumb circling Spy’s shaft, still but firm, while his tongue continued to tease and explore, his lips softly closed just past the flare of Spy’s head. 

“Perfect,” Spy breathed, eyes closed, lips parted as he gave into the pleasure, letting Sniper take his time.

Feeling Spy relax into it, Sniper sped up a little, sliding his lips down to meet his knuckles and vice versa. 

“Wretch.” Spy sounded amused, though, not truly annoyed. “Fine, you want me to cum down your throat?” he purred. “Take all of me.”

Sniper shivered again, eyes rolling back in his head a little. Shifting again, he released his hold on Spy’s shaft and returned to taking him as deep as he could. He let Spy adjust to that for a moment, just holding him, then he began to move, fucking his mouth on Spy’s cock as hard and fast as he could take it, only stopping for the occasional panting breath. 

As Spy got closer, he took Sniper’s hair fiercely and held him down so his cock was as deep as it could go. He thrust a couple times before finally cumming with a low moan. “Fuck,” he sighed.

Sniper moaned in response, the sound turning into a muffled hum. He loved how rough Spy was being with him, and how he was able to undo his usually aloof teammate. He swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to pull back and breathe so he could give Spy just a little more, go just a little longer. 

Spy released him, lying limp against the pillows, chest heaving. “I’m glad we did this,” he panted.

After taking a moment to breathe, finish swallowing, and wipe his mouth, Sniper laughed. “I like that that’s the first thing you said,” he murmured, sliding up until he was lying beside Spy. “I’m glad too.”

“I’ve certainly thought about that when we were fighting,” Spy admitted with a grin.

“Really? We hardly ever see each other.” Sniper laughed again. “That’s sort of the point of you, isn’t it?”

“Well, you don’t see me unless I miss my first stab,” Spy chuckled.

“Miss your first— _ fuck!” _ Sniper recoiled, almost falling off the narrow bed, his eyes comically wide with complete and utter shock. 

“What?” Spy frowned down at him. Realization dawned. “You thought I was  _ your  _ Spy!” 

“Yes!”

Spy burst out laughing.

“Well how was I supposed to know!” Sniper protested, the corners of his mouth starting to twitch at the absurdity of the situation—even more absurd than he’d realized. “I’m starting to think  _ you’re  _ the one who’s high!”

“Honestly, how would I know what you assumed! You said Spy, I thought you knew. Anyway, I’m far more handsome than the RED Spy.” He smirked.

“I guess that’s  _ slightly  _ better than following your own team,” Sniper considered, finally giving in and starting to grin back at him. “Wouldn’t know—never seen  _ his face _ .”

“Well, you’d never seen mine either, before today.” Spy was glad Sniper didn’t look pissed. “And, honestly, this is a far more interesting dynamic,” he chuckled.

Sniper felt his face flush. “I…can’t say I disagree,” he admitted, a little grudgingly. 

Smiling, Spy pressed into Sniper and bit his shoulder. Once he’d pulled away, he murmured. “So, you’ve thought about fucking me during battle too?”

Sniper cried out, his hips bucking and arching even though he was nowhere near being able to get hard again. Once he’d recovered, he had to blink for a moment to remember what they’d been talking about. “Might’ve.”

“Mmm, good.”

“You…too? Right, I guess you said that, didn’t you.” Sniper swallowed. “Yeah, I have. There’ve been a few times…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, now you must tell me,” Spy laughed.

“When I thought you were going to go for me, or I’d go for you. Just…” Sniper laughed, a little wildly, “...bend you over my crate, or push you to your knees, or…or the other way around.”

“I may have had similar fantasies,” Spy admitted.

Sniper laughed. “Well, thank you for admitting that! Makes me feel better about… It’s less awkward that way.” He shook his head. “Still pretty awkward. But that might just be me.”

“You are pretty awkward.” 

“Yeah, that I am,” Sniper agreed.

Spy smirked. “Are we staying here? Or are you continuing on your drug-fuelled orgy?” he teased.

Sniper groaned, covering his face with a forearm. “I think that’s a bit much. D’you see anyone else in here with us? And it’s not like I’m doing cocaine or heroin! Though I do think I’m starting to come down a little. I could probably use some water, and then maybe sleep. You… You don’t have to go. If you don’t want. I mean…you can stay. If you do want. ...I should probably just shut up at this point.”

Spy laughed, then stroked a hand over Sniper’s chest, soothingly. “I’ll stay. And admit, you would have had group sex in the dirt.” He grinned. “If there had been an offer.”

“Might’ve.” But Sniper couldn’t help grinning back at him. “You want anything, while I’m up?” He cocked his head to the side. “‘Anything’ being limited to water, instant coffee—decaf—or…sun tea—which I’d rather not get, ’cause I’m naked. Not that it really matters here.”

“I don’t even want to know what sun tea is,” Spy sighed. It sounded like putting water outside in the sun to absorb its ‘aura’ or something. “I’ll have water.” 

Sniper grabbed two well-worn but clean mugs from his little cupboard and filled both from his jug of water. He gulped his down in one swallow, then made a face. “Actually, I’ve gotta piss. I’ll grab myself some sun tea—you want any instead of this?” He sloshed the water. 

“That depends on what it is,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s… You don’t know what sun tea is?”

“Well, the way you  _ phrased _ it made it sound like it was piss.”

“I… _ what?”  _ That startled a laugh out of Sniper, hard enough that he sloshed a little of Spy’s water. Sniper shook his head, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. Really, he couldn’t have expected anything else from sleeping with Spy—not that he’d knowingly, intentionally set out to sleep with a Spy. “Why would you think I’d be offering you piss to drink, you drongo?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, jar man.”

“Jar man yourself. Pest.” He handed Spy the water. “ _ Sex  _ pest,” he added, letting the screen door bang shut behind him. He was surrounded by people and other vehicles, so it didn’t really matter which side of the camper he pissed on, but he was used to going on the side away from the door, so that’s where he went out of habit. After, he climbed the ladder at the back of the camper and retrieved the big glass jar of sun tea he’d set up there when he’d arrived and brought it inside. He poured a glass for himself and sat beside Spy again.

“You never answered me about what it was.” Spy was smiling.

“You just put some lemons and sugar or tea leaves or…well, anything, really, in a glass jar—” he pointed to the one on his counter “—and let it sit outside all day in the  _ sun. _ It heats up and steeps, and then it’s ready to drink at night.  _ Sun. Tea.  _ Not piss.”

Spy just stifled his laughter, nabbing Sniper’s glass and taking a sip of it. “Mm, not bad.”

“Thanks,” Sniper said dryly. “Want some of your own? This one’s basically lemonade, just a bit of tea.”

“Sure.” He handed Sniper his glass, leaning back on the pillows. 

Sniper drank the water, groaning with pleasure, then filled Spy’s mug with tea, topping off his own. He handed it back to Spy, sitting beside him on the bed again—a little closer, this time.

Spy leaned into Sniper’s shoulder, savouring his drink quietly for a moment. It was pretty good, he had to admit, though he wished it were colder. He was feeling sleepy, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was willing to fall asleep around someone who was usually his enemy. Even if they’d just had a lot of fun together.

“Ah…night, then.” Sniper wasn’t sure what to say in this situation—well, in  _ most  _ situations—but he thought this one was odd enough that even a more socially adept person might struggle. He drained the last of his tea and set his mug on the table—between his small camper and long arms, everything was within arm’s reach, no matter where he was. 

He slid between Spy and the wall, leaving Spy a way out if he needed to get up—for any reason. He didn’t want Spy to wake up and feel trapped. 

He rested a hand lightly, experimentally, on Spy’s thigh.

Spy finished his own tea and mimicked Sniper, setting his glass down. Sniper put a hand on his thigh and Spy’s resolve to not stay wavered. Finally, he rolled over, putting his back to Sniper and drawing one of the man’s long arms around himself, closing his eyes. Even if he might not be able to sleep, he’d at least be able to rest, and be held.

  
  



	2. Waking Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little more time at the music festival

As he drifted back to consciousness, memories of strange dreams reminded Sniper of the mushrooms he’d eaten the night before. He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, in case he had a headache or the room was spinning. So far, so good, except…he wasn’t alone. Right, no, that checked out. He blinked. Or did it? The enemy Spy turning up at a musical festival for a fuck did seem rather…implausible. He’d probably gone for someone with a similar build or something, and his drug-fueled mind—why did that phrase sound so familiar?—had filled in the rest. The naked man in bed with him wasn’t,  _ couldn’t  _ be a Spy. Any Spy, enemy or no. 

Spy was still asleep, eyes closed, face slack. He had been awake a long time after Sniper, but finally the comfort and warmth of the other man’s arms had soothed him and he’d faded into dreams. 

Still…it was hard to tell without the suit that usually covered him, but the curve of his shoulders, the surprising roundness of his ass—not that he’d touched it before, but he’d  _ looked— _ definitely matched how he’d imagined Spy naked. He lay still and quiet, not wanting to wake his companion. Whoever he was. Or, more likely, wasn’t.

Sniper’s tensed body filtered through Spy’s sleeping mind and he stirred. He turned to peek over his shoulder, eyes half lidded. “Mm?”

“Morning, gorgeous.” Fuck, he was beautiful like this. In his wildest fantasies, he’d never imagined simply…waking up to Spy in his arms. It was almost better than the sex, a thought Sniper quickly shied away from. “Glad you’re still here. I think I might be up for another round, if you’re interested.”

A bit of amusement touched Spy’s eyes and he nodded, turning just enough in Sniper’s arms to press a kiss to his lips.

Sniper eagerly kissed him back. He didn’t get to do this often—maybe didn’t  _ allow _ it often, either, if he was being honest with himself. Just…kiss, and snuggle, and have slow, sleepy morning sex. Maybe he was still feeling the lingering effects of the mushrooms, but he didn’t want to stop. “Is that a nod to more sex, or an acknowledgement that you’re still here?”

“Both,” Spy murmured.

“Mmm. That’s what I was hoping.” Pressing his front against Spy’s back, Sniper reached around until his hand found Spy’s erect cock. “Dreaming about me?” he murmured in Spy’s ear. 

“Maybe,” he teased. “Fuck me?”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Sniper stroked a little harder, faster, teasing Spy to see if he’d commit or just take the easy way out and let Sniper finish him like this. 

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Pin me down and take me roughly, payback for all those backstabs?” he breathed.

Sniper laughed. “Oh, god, mate, that was awful!” He couldn’t deny the surge the thought sent through his groin, though. “All right. Would you grab the lube, or are you going to make me do everything? There are drawers under the bed—it’s in the middle one.”

“That’s not how I meant it,” Spy grinned, leaning over the side of the bed and grabbing the lube. Curiosity drove him to take a few more seconds to go over the rest of the contents of the drawer before passing the lube to Sniper. “How do you want me?”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t see how else you could’ve meant it,” Sniper laughed. He chose to ignore the sounds of Spy’s gentle rummaging, though he suspected the man had found the lube long before he sat up again. He grinned at Spy. “Well, if I’m stabbing you in the back, I’d better have you on your front, hadn’t I? Bend over the bed—or the table, if that’s more comfortable, I know the bed’s pretty low.”

The table might not be soft, but for someone as tall as Sniper, surely it would be an easier angle, so Spy stood and bent over it, gripping the sides, still naked from their night together. 

“God, I like you like this,” Sniper breathed, taking a moment to feast his eyes on Spy, naked and ready and aching for him. His cock impelled him to action, and his hands wanted to explore this strange, familiar skin. He traced the hollow of Spy’s backbone, the slight curve of his hips—the abrupt and surprising swell of his buttocks, coming out of nowhere on such a thin man.  _ Too thin, _ Sniper thought, but that wasn’t his business. 

Soon even touching Spy wasn’t enough, and he poured a generous dollop of lube onto his fingers, sliding them together to warm and spread it around. “Ready?”

Spy’s voice came breathy, excited. “Yes.” He arched under Sniper’s hands as he stroked his skin.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Sniper slid the tip of his index finger in Spy, waiting to feel him relax before pushing deeper. Once he was in to the farthest knuckle, he rolled it in slow circles, teasing, exploring, seeking out Spy’s most sensitive spots. 

Spy gave a soft moan, opening up slowly around Sniper’s long fingers. “Fuuuck,” he sighed, biting his lip. His fingertip stroked over his prostate and Spy felt his cock twitch up against the table. “Good, right there,” he murmured.

Sniper laughed gently, appreciatively. “So eager. That didn’t take much, did it?” He pressed on the spot Spy had indicated, stroking in little circles without relenting any pressure. “You’ll be ready for another right away, won’t you?” he asked, his voice the same low growl he used during battle. 

That voice always sent a thrill through him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “I think so,” he purred, then gave a moan, cut off by a gasp. Sniper’s fingers were slow and exacting, tracing over the sensitive spot.

Sniper withdrew his finger just enough to slide another one in alongside, a little roughly and faster. “Yeah, you like that better, don’t you? Mmmm… You’re so hot and tight already, can’t even imagine how good you’re going to feel around my cock.”

“Ahh.” Spy sucked in a sharp breath as Sniper spread his two fingers. “That’s good, that’s good,” he praised. 

Sniper couldn’t help a little warm glow at the praise, curling his fingers happily in response. Spy’s words seemed to go directly to his cock, and now he was eager, nearly impatient, to stretch Spy enough to fuck him properly. He fucked Spy with his fingers, sliding them in and out, going faster and deeper, hoping Spy wouldn’t tell him to stop or slow down. 

“I’m ready, I can take you,” Spy assured him, too eager to wait any longer. He wanted to feel Sniper in him.

“Good, because I’m about to pop!” Sniper laughed. He pulled his hand free, quickly wiping it on a handkerchief before pouring more lube on his hand. He barely waited for it to warm to his skin before slathering it on his cock. He set one hand on each of Spy’s hips—with a little smirk of wicked pleasure at smearing lube on his immaculate skin—and positioned himself. “Ready?” he asked, voice a little breathy. “Last chance to back out.”

“Fuck me already, bushman,” Spy chuckled. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Well, I can hardly turn down an offer like that, now can I?” Sniper guided his head in with a grunt, fading into a gasp as he felt Spy eagerly close around him. 

Spy’s muscles seemed to draw Sniper in, and he let out a low groan. Sniper’s cock was a bit of a stretch; he could feel himself opening up to the man’s girth. He bit his lip, whining as Sniper took his time pressing into him. “I can take it,” he assured him. He wanted Sniper deep, sheathed in him.

“Not too much?” Sniper could feel Spy shivering beneath him, like a horse poised to bolt. He wanted this to be good for Spy, so he’d want to…do it again. That thought was a little terrifying, and he shied away from it, instead concentrating on the feeling of—finally! After all his fantasies—sinking cock-first into the enemy Spy. 

“I can take it!” he insisted. “I want all of you, I  _ want  _ you,” Spy cried.

“Alright, alright!” Sniper laughed. “I’m not doubting your abilities, just want to make sure I don’t rush and hurt you. You’ll  _ get  _ all of me, don’t you worry, no need to fret about that.” He forced himself to go slowly, sharp teeth sunk into his lower lip with concentration, fighting his urge—his  _ need— _ to pound as hard and fast into Spy as he could. 

“Nnnh.” Spy forced himself to stay still, to not push back into Sniper and force him deeper, even if he desperately wanted it. He held onto the table tightly, pressing his forehead to it in an effort to keep himself composed. He gave one more heartfelt, “ _ Please _ .”

Barely resisting the urge to coo at how uncharacteristically open and, frankly, adorably Spy was behaving, Sniper quietly relented. He slid his full length home with a groan, eyes shut with pleasure as he sank deeper and deeper until finally bottoming out. 

“Yesss,” Spy sighed, relaxing into the slow stretch. “Good, yes,” he murmured. Once he had opened up enough to really accept the intrusion, he gave an experimental squeeze with his inner muscles, curious to see what reaction he’d get from Sniper.

Sniper’s nails sank into Spy’s shoulders, his head snapping back as he cried out with pleasure. “God—fuck…whatever you’re doing…!” he gasped, unable to even finish a sentence. 

Spy couldn’t keep in his smirk. It was nice to undo his enemy so completely, to feel his nails dig into his skin, hear him curse. He’d never heard Sniper curse, not even when they fought to kill each other. 

“That’s it,” he praised, “I like your nails like that.”

Sniper blushed. “That’s…good,” he murmured, apologetically. “Sorry, mate.” He tightened his grip a little more, experimentally. 

Spy gave a gasp, pressing back into Sniper eagerly. “Yes, yes,” he moaned, encouragingly. Sniper was setting the pace here and Spy was starting to get impatient. He wanted more, and faster. “Fuck me, Sniper, don’t stop.”

Sniper laughed, sounding hardly any different than on the battlefield. He dug his nails in again before releasing a little to concentrate on fucking Spy properly. He tried to ignore the little shiver of pleasure Spy’s demands shot through him—probably just a lingering effect of the mushrooms, he decided. He obeyed, shifting his hands to Spy’s hips for a better grip as he picked up speed, ramming into Spy again and again. 

“Yes!” Spy cried out, clutching the table. “Oh, fuck, yes, oh god!” He had to relax into the fast pace and unforgiving force of Sniper’s thrusts, otherwise he was sure it would be almost overwhelming, and the last thing he wanted was for Sniper to stop. 

The table creaked alarmingly, and Sniper could feel the legs shift and flex with each thrust, but it seemed to be holding together alright. “Yeah, that’s what you need, isn’t it?” he murmured, stroking Spy’s hip with one hand while gripping the other with his nails.

“Yes, just what I wanted!” Spy gasped through moans. He was getting remarkably close for not having been able to touch his own cock due to the table being in the way. “That’s it, that’s it!” His cries were only getting louder. He had no shame here, even with people surrounding the camper. He was sure they weren’t the only ones making such noises this morning. “You fuck me so good.”

“Do my best,” Sniper said modestly, grinning. “Glad you’re…pleased!” he grunted, thumb tracing the magnificent swell of Spy’s ass. 

Spy’s moans became muffled as he turned his head against his arm, the sounds getting higher and louder as he got closer to cumming. “Cum in me!” he said. 

Sniper wasn’t sure if he was begging for it or demanding it, or that there was any real difference, but he wasn’t exactly going to protest either way. He came with a wild cry within a few heartbeats of Spy’s order, fingers digging into the hollows of Spy’s hips as he strained to push himself as deep as Spy could take him. 

Spy gasped his praises, telling Sniper how perfect, how wonderful, how fantastic he’d been, and after he came underneath the table, he murmured, “Good boy.”

Sniper’s cock seemed to throb harder with every word Spy spoke, and he cried out hoarsely as the praise wrung another spurt from deep inside him. He was panting by the time he finished and he felt Spy relax around him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, not sure if the moisture was sweat, tears, or both. 

“Fuck,” Spy sighed, letting Sniper slip out and collapse before forcing himself up and letting himself fall limp to the bed. He could feel Sniper’s cum leaking out of him and he groaned softly. “That was great,” he said, breathlessly. He rolled his head to look at Sniper. He looked as worn out as Spy felt, and just as pleased.

“Fuck,” Sniper agreed. He tossed Spy a clean cloth, giving himself a quick wipe with another one before joining Spy on the bed. “That was…” He shook his head, laughing. “I can’t even think of the words.”

“Mmm,” Spy agreed, wordlessly, resting his head against Sniper’s shoulder. “Good boy,” he said again, pressing a kiss to Sniper’s chest.

Sniper shivered, his limbs and neck going limp. 

“You like that, hmm?”

“No!” Sniper protested, not even convincing himself. 

Spy just laughed. “Well, I like it.”

Sniper couldn’t help laughing in return. He thought for a moment—his brain felt heavy and warm, thick and slow. “I like it,” he admitted slowly, “but I don’t  _ like  _ that I like it. If that makes sense.”

“Mm-hm.” Spy kissed Sniper’s neck. “Not easy to admit you like being a bit submissive,” he agreed, then bit Sniper just above a dark red hickey he’d left yesterday.

“Fuck!” Sniper arched beneath Spy, his vision going white for a moment. He suspected that, had he been able to, he might’ve come again from that. Not that he was going to admit that to Spy—though he had the uncomfortable feeling the damn man might already know that, anyway. He blinked up at Spy, grinning softly. “Not exactly the most…mercenary of qualities,” he pointed out. 

Spy just shrugged. “You’re not on duty,” he countered.

“True. Though, somehow, I don’t think that’ll stop you from using your new knowledge against me in battle.” He rolled over to shoot Spy a pointed look, eyebrow raised accusingly. 

“Maybe.” Spy smirked. “Or maybe I’ll be completely professional. You have no way of knowing.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s about what I thought. Pest,” he said, fondly. 

“Pest yourself.”

“Sex-pest.”

  
  



	3. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things change, some things stay the same

The look on Spy’s face when Sniper told him where he could piss—in a jar, or around the side of the camper like Sniper—was something Sniper would treasure for a long time, no matter…no matter what happened when their lives returned to normal. Well, what passed for normal for men like them. 

They spent the week together, in a pleasant, sweaty blur. They hardly left the camper, and Spy was very glad he’d followed his enemy out to this ridiculous music festival. He was even gladder he didn’t really have to listen to the music, or the conspiracy theorists, out there. 

Sniper did not eat any more of his mushrooms, and Spy was happy they weren’t offered to him. 

Then they were back at work, and the first time they met in battle, Spy stabbed Sniper between the shoulder blades with no remorse.

Sniper couldn’t be sure, but he thought he remembered grinning at Spy when he felt the cold knife sink into his back. He opened his eyes in respawn, feeling almost dizzy with a whirl of emotions—relief, a profound sense of relief that nothing had changed between them, but also deep, bitter disappointment that, well...nothing had changed. 

They remained professional throughout the week, murdering each other as usual. There was no mercy between them. The weekend came without any sign that they would be anything less than professional again.

***

Sniper stripped off his shirt as he opened his camper door, using it to wipe the sweat from his face before tossing it in his wicker laundry basket. He usually looked forward to weekends, when he could be alone, but this one was different. He wouldn’t have to face the enemy Spy — or anyone else —but he felt...lonely.   It was rare for him to feel alone, never mind lonely, but the camper felt empty in a way it never had before. He groaned, shaking his head. A drive in the desert would be just the thing to perk himself up, he decided. 

There was someone waiting for him, half naked on his bed. Spy smirked up at him, watching him jump out of his skin with obvious delight. “I’ve missed you too.” He grinned.

Relieved that no one was close enough to hear him scream—and hoping the sound hurt Spy’s ears in the small space, the little shit—Sniper sat at his table, heart pounding. For a moment all he could do was narrow his eyes at Spy—and did he have to look so  _ pleased  _ with himself? “Who said anything about missing you?” he countered, flashing a very brief grin to show Spy he didn’t mean it. 

“Oh, don’t play coy,” he teased, grabbing Sniper by the belt and pulling him down onto the bed with him. “You thought about me all week, didn’t you?”

“Pest!”

“I believe it was sex-pest, last time,” he laughed. He wrapped an arm around Sniper’s neck and drew him in for a passionate kiss.

“You’re a pest  _ and  _ a sex pest!” Sniper kissed him back, letting him feel all his pent-up frustration, confusion, and desire. 

Spy hummed his pleasure into the kiss, enjoying the heat of Sniper’s response. He slid a thigh between Sniper’s legs, rubbing up against his cock. Finally, they pulled back just enough to breathe, both of them panting, almost nose to nose. 

“Fuck,” Sniper gasped. He felt like he wore a goofy grin, but he couldn’t seem to help it. “Missed you,” he admitted. He regretted saying it a moment later, worried it might be too much for Spy, might drive him away, but it was too late to take it back. 

“Did you?” he teased, then added, a little more tenderly, “I missed you too. We had a lot of fun. But, as I promised, I’ve been nothing but professional. Weekends don’t count.”

“You have,” Sniper agreed, a little ruefully. “I was worried that—” He shook his head, gently squeezing Spy’s upper arms. 

“What, that I’d put you out of my mind?” Spy grinned. “I loved seeing that hickey every time I crept up on you,” he chuckled. “But you’re nothing if not professional, hm? I thought you’d balk if I wasn’t the same.”

“Maybe.” Still, Sniper couldn’t help closing his eyes for a moment in relief. “Weekends are different?” he prompted.

“We’re not working, are we?”

“Not right now.” Sniper laughed. “Well,  _ I’m  _ not; I’m not convinced you’re ever not working…gathering information…” He punctuated each word with a little kiss across Spy’s jaw and cheek. 

“And what information would I get from you that I couldn’t have gotten last week, hm?” Spy gave him a smirk, but hummed his approval as Sniper kissed him, tilting his head back to offer more of his neck. “You weren’t exactly holding back,” he pointed out. 

“Never know with you. Couldn’t possibly keep up with all the schemes in that busy little head of yours.” Encouraged, Sniper nibbled just a little, slowly kissing lower and lower, eyes focused on Spy’s the whole time. 

“Mm.” He put a hand on the back of Sniper’s neck, fingers squeezing a little. 

“Mmmm,” Sniper agreed, mouth going a little slack with pleasure. “Like…” He had to stop and clear his throat before he could get the words out, “like your hand there…like that…”

“Thought you might.” Their week together had revealed a lot more about Sniper’s sexual interests to Spy than what he’d gleaned from snooping : H e liked being told what to do. He liked being held down. Spy was sure there were other things along those same lines that his new lover liked, or might like if introduced to them. He planned to introduce Sniper to as many new experiences as he could. And to make them all extremely enjoyable for both of them, naturally. 

He pushed Sniper down on the bed, straddling him and leaving a love bite just under his jaw, visible to anyone who saw Sniper.

Sniper bucked and cried out beneath him, arms sprawling helplessly across the bed. He laughed, a little breathlessly. “You’ve just got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“I’d like to think so.” Spy smiled down at him, squeezing him with his thighs. “Want me to ride you?” Though Sniper loved to take his orders so far, Spy always liked reassurance that his partner was interested, was eager for it.

“I’m not going to say no.” Sniper grinned, trying to play a little coy and keep up with Spy and not say straight out how much he wanted it. He petted Spy’s thighs and hips, lifting his own hips to press his erection against Spy’s groin. “If you couldn’t tell.”

“Undress for me, then,” Spy said, stroking his hands over Sniper’s lean, muscular chest before rolling off Sniper to allow him to actually undress. He undid his own belt and tugged his trousers off, putting them with the rest of his clothes.

“Nice to get out of these. They were getting a little, ah, snug,” Sniper said as he sat up and took off his trousers. As usual, he wasn’t wearing underwear, and it only took a moment for him to stand naked in front of Spy. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed, eyes roving Spy’s exposed body with obvious admiration. “Don’t know what you’re doing with  _ me, _ of all people.”

“Enjoying my luck?” Spy suggested, twining a leg around Sniper’s thigh and drawing him closer to the bed. He wrapped an arm around his neck as soon as he was close enough, pulling him into another kiss.

“Definitely.” Sniper kissed back, hard and eager, grinding against Spy’s thigh a little. 

Spy was breathless when he pulled away, pushing Sniper off and letting him lie back against the pillows and get comfortable. By now he knew how to find the lube without even looking, and he popped the top open. “Open me up,” he demanded, straddling Sniper’s abdomen, up on his knees to leave a little space for Sniper’s hand between his thighs.

“Alright,” Sniper laughed, holding out a hand for lube. “Not shy about asking for what you want, are you?”

“Oh, would you prefer guessing?” Spy poured a little lube on Sniper’s fingers.

“Alright, you’ve got me there. Though I am a little surprised you don’t like making people guess.” He spread the lube across his fingers, slipping his hand into the space Spy had left for him. A few moments of pleasant exploration, and he slid his index finger in. 

“Mmm, some things are better if not left to chance.” Spy bit his lip, closing his eyes. “That’s good.” His thighs trembled a little as Sniper ran his finger over his prostate almost immediately. 

As much as he liked following Spy’s…suggestions…Sniper also enjoyed finding ways to quietly disobey. Feeling Spy tense and clench around him, Sniper concentrated his touch on the spot that gave him the best reaction, stroking and circling it with his finger. 

Spy just stared down at him as though he knew Sniper was challenging him with silent disobedience. “Another finger,” he said, voice surprisingly firm and steady.

Sniper eagerly did as he was told; two fingers gave him even more possibilities and leverage. As badly as he wanted to fuck Spy—and he did—he also found himself wondering if he could get him off like this, before Spy had time to enact his full plan. 

Spy leaned over Sniper, resting his hands on his chest, pressing a lot of his weight there. “I can’t wait to feel your cock in me,” he murmured, eyes locked with Sniper’s. “To feel you cum in me, fill me up.” He scratched his fingernails down Sniper’s chest, the weight shifting to a single hand now, over Sniper’s heart.

“Me neither,” Sniper agreed, trying not to grin—he couldn’t quite keep eye contact with Spy. “Ready for another?” He curled his fingers roughly, pressing hard. 

“Ahhh,” Spy moaned, practically doubling over. “No, I’m ready for you.”

“Are you sure?” Sniper asked, all innocence. “I wouldn’t want to fuck you before you’re properly stretched.” He curled his fingers again, working them as deep as they’d go. 

“Fuck me, you brat.” Spy grinned, not wanting to move back until Sniper’s fingers were clear of him. “I want your cock.”

Sniper sighed playfully and withdrew his fingers. “My cock wants you too. Ready?” He placed a hand on one of Spy’s hips, lining himself up with the other. 

Spy nodded, letting Sniper ease in at first, before slowly working his way down to the base. Fully seated, perfectly full, Spy just sat for a moment, watching Sniper’s face as he worked his inner muscles, tightening and relaxing around Sniper’s cock.

“Mmm…” Sniper groaned with absolute contentment, eyes closing as he felt Spy settle into place as though he belonged there—he almost expected to hear a  _ click.  _ He rested a hand on each of Spy’s hips now, stroking the prominent bones in slow circles while he waited for Spy to make the first move. 

Spy raised himself up, hands leaning on Sniper again, on his ribs now. It wasn’t long before Sniper’s cock was sliding in and out of him at a quick pace. Spy’s head tilted back as he moaned.

Sniper laughed. “I don’t even have to do anything.”

“No, this is my show,” Spy agreed. He bucked his hips faster, starting to stroke his cock as he did. He’d been fully hard for a while now, and the head of his cock was shining with precum.

“I love when you have to give in and start stroking yourself, because I’m making you feel so good,” he murmured, watching Spy’s hand, feeling almost hypnotised by the movement. He laughed. “It’s  _ always  _ your show, you make damn sure of that.” Sniper’s voice was high and breathy with arousal. He lifted Spy a little with his hands on the other man’s hips, fucking him as best he could in counterpoint to Spy’s thrusts. 

“I don’t think you have a problem with that,” Spy gasped, covering his mouth briefly to keep in his needy cries. “Fuck,” he cursed once he’d ridden through it. He was flushed, from his face down to his chest. His head bowed forwards now and Sniper could see his rather unfocused expression.

“Apparently not,” Sniper agreed, enraptured with the look on Spy’s face. He sped up a little, matching Spy thrust for thrust, giving him no time to catch his breath or relax. 

“You just love being a disobedient brat, don’t you?” he panted, pinning Sniper’s hips down with his hands and slowing down dramatically. He was so close, he just wanted it to last a little longer, tease himself. He sat up enough that it was just the head of Sniper’s cock pressing through that first tight ring of muscle again and again. He moaned every time he was stretched open anew. 

“Me?” Sniper asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “That doesn’t sound like me, does it? I’m the one who does just what you ask, aren’t I?” He moaned at the feeling of being pinned down, delighting in the fact that Spy was having to hold himself back so visibly, that he could take this world-class lover to the edge and make him fight to keep from falling over it. “God, fuck, mate, that feels…!” His nails dug into Spy’s hips, desperately trying to pull him closer,  _ harder,  _ to just let them both finish. He cried out wordlessly when he was thwarted, Spy keeping him neatly in place. He wanted to finish so badly, all playing aside. Spy was driving him wild, but he didn’t want to come before Spy, wanted to hold on, to prove that he could. 

Spy gave a breathy laugh at Sniper’s feigned innocence. It was delightful, walking that balance between controlling Sniper and letting him get away with little rebellions. It was a part of Sniper that he adored seeing, a sweet and playful side of him. Spy’s orgasm seemed a little further away now; he was back in control. He wrung sounds out of Sniper excitedly, slowly taking him deeper and deeper, but always pulling up far enough that just the head of his cock remained in him. 

“…Spy!” Sniper cried out, almost a whine. “Please, please, Spy,  _ please!” _

Smiling down at him, Spy finally began to move faster again, driving Sniper as deep as he could go. Again, that flush spread across his skin and he looked just as desperate as Sniper. “Cum in me,” he choked out.

“Yes!” Sniper arched and bucked beneath him, fighting against Spy’s restraining hands, loving the feeling of being pinned down while he came deep inside Spy. 

Spy gave a long cry, spilling across Sniper’s chest and stomach. He stayed seated on Sniper, but released his hips. They were both breathing hard, Spy grinning down at him. After a long moment, he got up on his knees to let Sniper’s cock slip out of him, then flopped over against Sniper’s side, pressing his nose in against his neck.

_ “Fuck,”  _ Sniper groaned, emphatically. “That was…” He laughed, shaking his head. “Every time, I think, ‘This is it, this is the best sex I’ve ever had,’ and then the next time it’s just…better!”

Spy laughed softly, pressing his lips to Sniper’s ear. “That was fantastic. Even if you are a complete brat.” He smirked.

Sniper shivered, rubbing his ear against Spy’s lips eagerly. “How was I a brat?” he asked, mock-offended. “Didn’t I do everything you said?”

“Mhm, in a way you knew I didn’t want you to. Trying to get me off with your fingers.” He nibbled the curve of Sniper’s ear. “Naughty thing.”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sniper purred, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms and the back of his neck. “But if it’s really that bad, you should probably punish me, don’t you think? Just to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Do you really want me to punish you, or would you rather I spank you and we can pretend I’m punishing you?” Spy teased.

“I don’t think I ever want you to  _ actually _ punish me. My poor little mind can’t even conceive of what you might do!” Sniper laughed. “But that other thing sounds nice, yes.”

“Mhm. How about we do that in a few minutes, since I’m pretty sure I can’t move,” Spy sighed, contentedly. “You felt so good in me.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean right now! I don’t think I can move more than this.” He reached back to stroke Spy’s side, eyelids fluttering at Spy’s words. “Fuck, you felt so good  _ around  _ me,” he groaned. 

Spy leaned into his touch, happy to lie with Sniper for a while and almost doze, just touching and stroking each other. Once they’d had a chance to recover, he sat up and grabbed a cloth, wiping his cum off of Sniper’s chest. He pulled himself up against the pillows, grabbing a fistful of Sniper’s hair and pulling him up a little. “Get over my lap with your ass in the air.”

Sniper moaned, utterly wanton, eagerly obeying the rough hand guiding him into place. “You’re sure? Already? I mean…I’m not complaining, but…” He settled himself comfortably, lifting his ass for Spy. 

“You sure don’t seem like you’re saying no,” Spy observed with amusement, watching Sniper offer himself up. 

He began gently, rubbing and massaging Sniper’s ass, drawing his nails across it every so often.

“I’m definitely not saying no. I’m saying the opposite of no.” Sniper shivered, leaning into Spy’s touch. His small sounds of contentment grew higher-pitched, almost becoming whines, as Spy continued to tease rather than spank. 

“Oh, no whining, pet,” Spy’s other hand settled between Sniper’s shoulder blades, in a place he often stabbed, “or I’ll have to stop.” 

“You wouldn’t!” Sniper protested, going limp beneath Spy at the firm but gentle pressure on his back. “Besides,” he laughed, “you haven’t even started yet.”

He smiled as Sniper squirmed under him, and finally raised his hand to give Sniper a fairly gentle whack.

Sniper was usually a fairly quiet and composed man—during sex, as well as the rest of his life—but he cried out with abandon as Spy finally relented and gave him what he wanted. He blushed a little once he came back to himself, hoping they were far enough from his team that they wouldn’t be overheard. 

“Oh, Sniper,” Spy chuckled. “So vocal,” he said, as though praising him. He swatted him again, then kept up a slow rhythm of blows, striking one cheek, then the other.

“Nuh—” Sniper started to protest, the word cut off by a long, heartfelt moan as Spy started spanking him in earnest. 

Sniper’s cries made a pleasant warmth settle in Spy’s stomach, which quickly turned to heat. His cock twitched but there was no way he was ready to get hard again so soon. “Good boy,” he cooed, his strikes coming harder and faster now.

“Spy!” Sniper cried out, pleadingly, though he couldn’t have said what he was asking for. He felt so good, so good, like he was coming again, but in a different and previously unknown way. 

The rhythm of the spanking started to change. Instead of predictable back and forth swats, once on one cheek, then once on the other, the blows came randomly. Sometimes three, sometimes four, sometimes only one before switching. He turned his hand, using the back of it for harder, stingier blows. “You’re taking it so well,” he murmured, his other hand holding him down harder to keep him from squirming away.

Sniper felt a sense of nearly professional pride at Spy’s words. It wasn’t, he supposed, all that dissimilar to the battlefield compliments he and the Spy occasionally paid each other—though the situation could hardly have been more different. He  _ liked  _ the Spy’s praise more than he would possibly have anticipated. It made him feel so good, almost…useful. It was a strange thought, but it rang true.

He moaned again, long and loud, when Spy applied more pressure, pinning him down while his other hand continued to spank him. There was no rhythm; every strike kept him primed and on edge, never knowing where or when the next would land. 

Spy dragged his short fingernails across the reddened skin of Sniper’s ass, hard and fast. Feeling particularly wicked, he pulled his hand away and blew across the hot skin, cooling it slightly.

Sniper cried out, feeling like his body couldn’t handle all the conflicting, connecting sensations at once. He went still and limp, letting Spy take control and guide him through this to the other side. 

Spy continued for another thirty seconds, raining gentler blows across Sniper’s backside. He slowed, then finally stopped. “Good,” he praised. “I think you’re about done.”

“Done?” Sniper asked, groggily. 

“Mhm, I think that’s enough,” he said, kindly, gently pushing Sniper off his lap and rearranging him so he was lying properly on the bed, head on the pillows. 

“No,” Sniper protested, feebly reaching for Spy, though he quickly settled and snuggled into the pillows. 

Spy lay down next to him, pulling Sniper into his arms and peppering his face and shoulder with kisses. “You did so well, you took so much.”

“I did?” Sniper asked, again surprised by how much Spy’s words meant to him. Though, to be fair, everything seemed strangely important right now. 

“You did.” Spy tried to hide his smile. Subspace often made people act adorably, but it was especially interesting to see in Sniper. He was almost sleepy, completely guileless. Spy held him close, stroking his hair gently, letting him rest. He was sure it wouldn’t be long before Sniper was asleep.

  
  



	4. Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sleeping with the enemy is a little complicated

Even though he’d stayed every night during the festival, Sniper assumed Spy would be gone in the morning now that they were back at work. He was pleasantly surprised to open his eyes and find Spy, apparently still asleep, curled against him. There was a little puddle of drool on the pillow beside him, and for some reason it was the most endearing thing Sniper had ever seen. He wanted to squish Spy against himself, but he also didn’t want to wake him. 

As Sniper shifted a little on the bed, Spy woke. He just lay there, slowly rolling onto his back to look back at Sniper, sleepily. “Mmm,” would have to do for a good morning. Feeling unguarded and affectionate, Spy twined their fingers together.

“Hey, mate.” Sniper grinned at his lover, curling forward to kiss his forehead when he felt Spy’s hand touch his own. “Sorry if I woke you. Glad…glad to see you’re still here.” It wasn’t like him to be this frank, this unguarded, and it made him a little nervous. Especially with Spy, who was fully capable of donning his cloak and vanishing in a puff of smoke if Sniper got too intense for him. So far, it seemed to be working—and he couldn’t seem to help himself. 

“Mhm.” Spy was still not awake enough to form sentences, or even words. He pulled himself in against Sniper’s chest. He was tired from last night, but pleasantly so. There were no signs that he was having any kind of mood drop, which often happened after a pleasantly rough night. Last night hadn’t been all that intense, for all that it had been very fun. After a minute or so, he yawned and asked, “Feeling alright?”

“Very.” Sniper gave Spy’s face a series of light kisses. “You?”

“Mmm,” he purred. “Good. I meant to get you water and something to eat afterwards, but you passed out pretty fast.”

“Oh. Sorry! I hope you weren’t bored.”

“No.” Spy had actually enjoyed relaxing a little while watching Sniper sleep, coming down from his own little high he’d gotten from spanking Sniper. “It’s just good to have something after being rough.”

Sniper grinned a little self-consciously. “Was that rough? For you, I mean. I’m sure you’ve done…” he blew out a puff of air, “...all kinds of things.”

Spy grinned. “Let’s say it was rough for starting out,” he suggested. 

“Meaning it’s going to get rougher?” Sniper didn’t bother to hide the anticipatory gleam in his eye. 

“If that’s what you’d like,” Spy said innocently, as though he didn’t hear the excitement in Sniper’s voice. 

“I liked it. A lot. But if there’s more…I think I’d like to try it.” Sniper held up a hand. “Eventually! Not right now. Right now…” His stomach gurgled loudly enough for both men to hear it. “For now, breakfast, I suppose,” he laughed. “If…you want to stay for that. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid, but I have some bread and eggs.”

“I suppose that’ll do,” Spy mock-sighed, as though Sniper hadn’t been feeding him all last week. “Let’s be honest, you know by now that I’m not as picky as you imagined.” 

Sniper laughed. “I suppose that’s true. I just keep thinking…I don’t know, that it’ll all have been a dream, or you’ll just…I don’t know…snap back to the way things were before.” He sat up and gave Spy’s thigh a fond squeeze. “I like this way better.”

“Me too,” Spy admitted. It was nice to really relax around someone, even if that someone was his enemy. It was easy to relax around Sniper, somehow. He knew Sniper was a trustworthy sort. He knew so much of the man’s history. And he trusted his gut too, which said he could be trusted, that he was safe. Spy stayed in bed for a while longer as Sniper cooked. There wasn’t much room in the camper anyway, and it was likely he’d just get in the way. 

Sniper hummed softly to himself while he fried eggs. He could get used to this. The thought terrified him a little, but that didn’t make it any less true. He’d never wanted—never  _ thought  _ he wanted—a steady partner, someone to make love to at night and kiss in the morning over breakfast, but now the thought of losing it was almost physically painful. That realization made him want to pull away, to run out into the desert until Spy realized just how crazy he was and stayed away forever. He served them each a plate of eggs and buttered bread. 

They ate quietly together, both lost in their own thoughts. Spy watched Sniper as he finished his food. He had a strange expression on his face. A tinge of panic, maybe, or indecision. Maybe he was thinking about what they’d done last night. Maybe he was thinking about them and how strange, maybe even wrong, they were together.

Sniper collected their plates and washed them in his little sink, setting them on a towel to dry. He sat across the table from Spy again, trying to look at him only when Spy looked away, not wanting Spy to see him watching. “I’m glad you came.” He gave a short burst of laughter. “I mean, that too, but…to my camper.”

“Me too,” Spy responded, trying to suss out whether or not Sniper was trying to tell him he needed some space now, even if he was glad Spy had spent the night. Finally, he came out and asked, “Do you need the day for yourself? I won’t stay if you’d rather be alone.”

“No, I’d like you to stay. If  _ you’d _ like.” He shook his head. “Look at the pair of us.” Laughing, he reached across the table and took one of Spy’s hands. “I’d like you to stay. Really. I’m not just saying that to not be awkward.”

“You don’t usually have a problem with being awkward,” Spy teased with a smirk. They’d spent a full week together, living together in Sniper’s cramped camper, but now that they were working again, Spy  _ himself _ felt a little awkward. Before, they had just eaten and fucked and hadn’t spent much time talking. They had been on vacation, they could afford to spend a week like that. Now it felt more serious, with Spy visiting Sniper on the weekend. No longer wanting to feel awkward, Spy pushed Sniper back onto the bed with a hungry look.

“No, I don’t.” Sniper grinned back, relieved when Spy moved him towards the bed. 

Spy pinned Sniper down by the shoulders, straddling him and leaning down for a kiss.

“Someone’s eager,” Sniper said, a little breathily. His cock, which had flagged a little from its morning stiffness, eagerly came to full attention again between Spy pinning him down and the look on his face. He tilted his head up as far as he could to meet Spy’s lips. 

Spy felt Sniper’s cock pressing against his ass and raised an eyebrow. He broke away from the kiss. “Yes, you are,” he laughed. A few wicked ideas came into his head and he leaned off the side of the bed to grab his tie from his pile of clothing. With a tilt of the head, silently asking permission, he took Sniper’s hands and pressed them close together.

Toes curling with delighted anticipation, Sniper nodded eagerly—actually jarring his wrist bones a little when he moved too quickly in his eagerness. “You’re not sore from last night?”

“Who said you’d be fucking me?” Spy grinned, separating Sniper’s wrists a little and indicating he should hold still. He tied a quick pair of soft cuffs and knotted it tightly. He pressed Sniper’s arms above the pillows. “Stay,” he directed.

“I guess I just assumed, the way you’re rubbing against my cock,” Sniper teased, eagerly offering himself up. With a mock-salute—hampered by the fact that his wrists were tied together—Sniper positioned his wrists where Spy told him, pressing them down a little to show he’d stay. 

“Good boy.” Spy slid off him. Grabbing the lube from where they’d left it last night, he slicked himself, teasing Sniper for a moment, taking his time stroking himself from tip to base with only his thumb and forefinger to allow Sniper to see as much of his cock as possible as he watched. 

“Spy!” Sniper yelped, after not very much time had passed—or maybe an eternity. “Please!”

Spy laughed. Sniper could sit behind his scope for hours without complaint, but get him riled up and suddenly he had no patience. What a delightful discovery.

He lifted Sniper’s legs, angling him up so he could start to press the head of his cock in, without any preparation. He’d done it with Sniper before, and though it was clearly a lot for him, he’d taken it without any pain.

“Yes, yes, please yes Spy yes now!” Sniper had to force himself to stay loose and relaxed, especially once Spy’s head was in and it felt so good he just wanted to clamp down and squeeze his pleasure out of it. 

Spy paused once the tip of his cock was in him, making sure Sniper was relaxed enough to accept more. After thirty seconds or so, he pressed in further, with a low moan.

“You get off on teasing me, making me wait, don’t you?” Sniper gasped, nails digging into his palms as he rode it out. As soon as Spy was fully seated, he started rocking his hips as fast and hard as he could from his prone position, fucking himself on Spy’s cock, trying to take back a little control. 

“Of course I do,” Spy agreed. He really enjoyed control, as Sniper had noticed quite early on. Which was, he suspected, partially why Sniper liked to challenge him. Spy thought Sniper enjoyed challenging him in an effort to get him to put him in his place. Spy was more than happy to accommodate him. 

He grabbed Sniper by the back of the thighs and pinned him, making it impossible to move. 

“Then I guess it’s lucky I get off on you…getting off on it.” Sniper cried out, his head falling back at the feeling of Spy pinning him down. He grinned up at Spy, eyes unfocused. “You’ve really got me right where you want me, don’t you?”

“I always do,” Spy agreed, voice heavy with the effort of keeping himself in control. He kept Sniper pinned, easily sliding in and out now that Sniper had adjusted to his girth. He kept his thrusts slow and almost sensual, letting his cock glide over Sniper’s prostate with every roll of his hips.

“I’ve noticed.” Talking was difficult, but it also helped him focus on more than the cock filling him so completely and perfectly. “God, Spy, you  _ are  _ a sex pest! How are you doing this? Bloody cock-wizard, that’s what you are!” he laughed. 

Spy just laughed in response, though it turned into a moan at the end. Sniper felt so good, hot and slick around him. He bit into his lower lip, keeping his eyes locked with Sniper’s. Slowly, his pace sped up.

“Yes, Spy, yes!” Sniper pleaded, wanting to reward and encourage him for finally moving faster. 

Finally, Spy’s thrusts grew more erratic as he began to lose his carefully kept control. His fingernails dug into Sniper’s thighs, and his cock slid as deep as it could each time he thrust. “Fuck,” he gasped. Now that Sniper was so close, he dropped one of his thighs and began to stroke his lover, his hand still a little slick from the lube.

“Fuck, yes, Spy, yes!” Sniper’s voice was reduced to a thin whine as he desperately fucked himself on Spy’s hand and cock. “God, I’m so close, you’d better be too!” he laughed. 

Spy nodded, not trusting his voice. He managed to hold on until he felt Sniper’s cock throb in his hand, until he watched him cum across himself. Spy gave a few more irregular thrusts before he came, pulling out to ejaculate over Sniper’s limp body. 

Sniper laughed, gasping a little. “You’re secretly filthy like the rest of us, aren’t you?” he said, once he could speak again. He tried to lift one hand, forgetting they were tied together. He settled for using both hands, getting them close enough to smear a finger through Spy’s come and locking eyes with his lover while he licked it off. 

Spy’s only reply was a slow grin. He grabbed a cloth for Sniper before lying down, letting the Australian clean himself up with his bound hands.

“Thanks,” Sniper said dryly, shaking his head fondly at Spy while he wiped up as best he could.

Spy just leaned in to suck at the hickey he’d already left along Sniper’s jawline.

Sniper hissed with pleasure, his eyelids fluttering shut in a happy aftershock. He flailed weakly at Spy with his bound hands, laughing. “Stop, no more, I can’t handle it!”

Spy laughed, but relented. “Need the cuffs off?” He wasn’t going to be wearing the tie again, at least not the next day. There was cum on it. 

“I mean, I don’t  _ need  _ them off.” Still bound, Sniper cuddled up against Spy’s side. 

“I don’t think you want them off, either.” Spy smiled. 

“Maybe,” Sniper admitted. All his muscles were still loose and relaxed, his mouth slightly slack with pleasure and contentment. “Are you going to stay, or do you have…Spy business?”

“It’s only Saturday. I could stay one more night.” Spy shrugged. “If you’d like.”

“I would like. I guess I meant more for the day than for the night.” 

Spy suddenly felt he’d overstepped, inviting himself to stay for longer than he ought to have. He didn’t want to appear over-eager, or to make an awkward Sniper let him stay when he really wanted privacy. “I do have things to do today, but I can come back tonight,” he lied. He had no real plans. Maybe he should, besides sleeping with the enemy.

Glad he was facing away from Spy so he wouldn’t see his look of disappointment, Sniper nodded. “I’d like that.” He reached back with his bound hands until he found Spy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He was curious about what Spy had to do on his day off, but he didn’t harbour much hope of Spy telling him if he asked. He sighed internally, trying to think of how he’d fill his day until Spy’s return. 

Spy was not looking forward to walking back and forth between bases twice today. Still, he heaved himself up, disentangling himself from Sniper. “I’ll let you work your way out of those cuffs,” he chuckled, starting to dress.

“What, you’re not going to wear it back?” Sniper teased. He held up his bound wrists, wincing when he saw several damp patches. “…Sorry about that.” He looked away from Spy as he dressed. Somehow, watching him put his clothes—his Spy persona—back on seemed almost more intimate than seeing him naked or undressing. 

Spy just laughed. “Yes, I’ll wear your cum around my base, and when my team asks I’ll tell them I was fucking the enemy Sniper, how does that sound?” Last was his mask and suddenly he was the BLU Spy again.

“It sounds like an interesting conversation.” Sniper grinned. He felt a little pain in his heart seeing the Spy—the  _ enemy  _ Spy—materialize in his camper while his lover vanished as surely as if he’d cloaked or disguised. The blue mask drove the point home. “This is crazy, isn’t it?” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it was probably better if one of them said it sooner rather than later. Even the trademark Spy smirk was back in place. 

Spy’s expression softened beneath the mask. “Yes.” He hesitated before making an offer he was hoping Sniper wouldn’t take. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Sniper shook his head, reinforcing his word. “I don’t.” He reached out and touched Spy’s gloved hand— a killer’s hand, rather than a lover’s. He forced himself not to pull away. “Does that make  _ me  _ crazy?” He laughed wryly.

“Maybe. It’s complicated,” Spy agreed. “We’re both professional enough to keep up our work, but,” he wasn’t sure what it was that made this more complicated, the fact that they had to kill each other, or the fact that they were breaking contract and sleeping with the enemy, “we’re going to be living two lives. I might be used to that, but I don’t think you are.”

Sniper laughed. “No, not so much. Fuck.” He shook his head. “But…” He gave Spy’s hand a squeeze, trying to reconcile these gloves he’d felt plunging a knife into his back with the bare fingers that had stroked him to completion moments ago. Two lives, indeed. “But I don’t want to stop. I  _ don’t.”  _ He paused.  _ “I  _ don’t.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.” Spy squeezed his hand back, cloaked, and was out the door before Sniper could say any more.


	5. Cuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trying out a bit of control

He _wasn’t_ waiting for Spy, Sniper reminded himself for the thousandth time. He was just sitting outside his camper, shirtless in the heat, drinking a beer. It was something he did often in the evening, even if he didn’t usually feel this sense of urgency while he waited _._ Not that he was waiting. Besides, odds were he wouldn’t see Spy coming; he wouldn’t be walking around the enemy base uncloaked. 

He didn’t see Spy, not until his camper door opened as Spy stepped inside and uncloaked as soon as he was out of view of the RED base, but still in Sniper’s line of sight.  _ “Bonsoir,”  _ he purred. 

He was wearing a clean tie, Sniper noted.

Sniper tried to control his startle reflex, but he still sloshed a little of his beer on the ground. “I don’t suppose you can help sneaking around and startling me, can you? Pest,” he added, fondly.

_ “Non,  _ it comes naturally to me,” Spy sighed. He was smiling though. He was wearing a side bag, and he dropped it on the bed, along with his jacket and tie as he began to strip.

Sniper raised an eyebrow at the strange noises the bag made when it landed. “What’s all that?” he asked, indicating the bag with his chin, momentarily distracted from the gorgeous sight of Spy undressing. 

“Why don’t you have a look?” Spy suggested, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“What, just like that? You’re not going to make me guess or anything?” Grinning, Sniper shook his head teasingly. “You’re slipping, mate.”

“I don’t like you guessing, remember?” Spy said. “I like you to do what I say.” He winked, pulled off his shirt, and left it on Sniper’s counter with the rest of his clothes. 

“True. You’re pretty different than in battle.” Sniper laughed. “I think I’m about the same…y’know, except for…” He blushed. 

“If only you were so submissive in battle,” Spy teased. “My job would be much easier.”

“Mm-hmm.” Sniper rolled his eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Pest.”

Down to his trousers now, Spy sat on the bed, offering the bag to Sniper with a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, you know I want to know.” Setting it on his little dinette with his back to Spy so his lover couldn’t see his reactions—which he suspected would annoy Spy—Sniper unzipped the bag. He pulled out a set of purple and black leather cuffs, raising an eyebrow. “Are these for me or you?”

“Do you really think I’m going to give you control so soon in our relationship?” Spy chuckled. “There’s more.”

_ “Would  _ you want that? Eventually?” Sniper asked, digging in the bag again. He pulled out a leather collar and flogger—both of which matched the cuffs. He couldn’t stifle a snort of laughter, examining the three things on his table. “What, did you get a deal when you bought the complete set?” he teased. 

“I commissioned them.” Spy rolled his eyes. “And maybe. I tend to escape bondage quite easily, and I generally like to. As much as I call you a brat, I’m far worse.” He grinned. He enjoyed submitting, he really did, but he had to test control almost constantly and it had driven a couple of his lovers crazy. It was hard to want to top someone who was constantly foiling your plans.

Sniper snorted again. “None of what you just said surprises me.” 

“Good, you’re getting to know me,” Spy laughed. “Anyway, I know you might not be interested in the flogger or collar yet, but I already know you like cuffs.”

Sniper felt an absurd burst of pleasure at Spy’s words—he  _ wanted  _ to get to know him, really know him, more than the persona he apparently wore while working. “You just had all this lying around?” He picked up the flogger, running the leather falls through his hands.

“I did take most of my things with me when I moved here.” He shrugged. “It’s not as though you didn’t do the same, by taking your camper.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sniper laughed. “You just had all this gear ready and waiting in case you found someone you wanted to use it on—or who you wanted to use it on you?” He blinked. “Or I guess you could be using it on someone else. Sorry. I shouldn’t assume…”

Spy shrugged again, clearly avoiding the implied question. “You don’t have anything like that, that you prefer using with company?” he asked.

“Not really. I’ve never really had anything…set aside for this. I just use whatever’s at hand—I always have rope around.” 

Spy smirked. “Rope is great, but sometimes you need real toys.”

“Apparently.” Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Sniper set the flogger down again. “I do like cuffs, but I think I’ll look like a dingo in a tutu wearing these.”

Spy snorted with laughter. “What an image, Sniper. They may not be your style, but they work, and they’re very comfortable. And locking, if that appeals to you.”

“…Maybe,” Sniper admitted, blushing a little. 

Taking the cuffs, Spy opened one of them and offered it to Sniper, waiting for his wrist.

Sniper offered it eagerly, shivering with pleasure as the soft, supple leather closed around his wrist. His eyes drifted shut. He immediately felt more relaxed, more grounded in his body. Not exactly the feelings he’d ever expected to ever have around the enemy Spy. The thought made him smile. 

Sniper’s smile gave Spy a warm feeling, a feeling that wasn’t quite comfortable for him. He tightened the strap on the cuff and moved on to the other wrist. He took two tiny locks and a key on a chain out of the bag, raising an eyebrow at Sniper to be sure he was ready to be locked into them.

Sniper took a deep, steadying breath. Did he really trust Spy—the  _ enemy _ Spy—to do this? He wouldn’t exactly be helpless, but he’d definitely be vulnerable. 

He nodded, just a fraction. 

Spy locked him in, then carefully put the delicate chain around his own neck, the key resting against his bare chest. He took a sturdier length of chain with a clip on either end and attached the cuffs together. “Good?” he confirmed.

“Very,” Sniper purred, tugging at his bonds experimentally and just to feel the sensation of being bound. 

“Good,” Spy repeated, sounding pleased. He pressed in for a kiss, eyes closing as their lips touched. Sniper looked good in cuffs, but he was right, the purple and black didn’t really suit him. He’d look better in brown leather, matching his hat and vest. 

He carefully took off Sniper’s sunglasses, and then his hat, putting them down on the counter. “Handsome,” he murmured. “It’s hard to tell when you hide so much of your face.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re usually looking at my face.” Sniper couldn’t help looking away shyly at Spy’s praise. 

“No? At your unprotected back, perhaps?” Spy laughed. 

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I might prefer this.” He nudged Sniper back gently and pushed him down onto the bed, with his legs hanging off the side. Bending over him, he undid his belt, button, and zipper, sliding a hand over his hardening cock through his pants.

“Yeah, me—” Sniper’s words cut off in a gasp, hips bucking up to meet Spy’s hand, rutting against him. 

Spy looked pleased with himself, smirking down at Sniper. He pulled off Sniper’s pants entirely. He loved that the Australian never wore anything underneath. Spy bent and licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, teasingly getting Sniper completely hard before ignoring his cock entirely and making himself comfortable on the bed next to him.

“Spy,  _ Spy!”  _ Sniper whined, tugging against the restraints in a desperate bid to make Spy continue. 

“Yes?” he asked, innocently.

“Please, please don’t stop, I need…!”

Spy laughed, leaning over Sniper, kissing his shoulder, and then biting him, hard.

Sniper went wild, crying out, arching and bucking beneath Spy. He wrapped his legs around Spy’s waist, pulling him close so he wouldn’t stop biting yet. 

It was surprisingly satisfying to be grabbed by Sniper, even though he wanted Spy bound. It made his cock stiffen to be held closer. Finally, he pulled away, not releasing until Sniper’s skin slipped through his teeth. 

Hissing with delicious pain, Sniper stared up at Spy, wide-eyed and unfocused. 

Spy smiled down at him, benevolently. He rolled Sniper onto his back again and straddled him this time. He looked down at his first bite mark and estimated where a matching one would go on the other shoulder. “Ready for another?” Spy kissed the spot he planned to bite.

Unable to form words, Sniper nodded, shifting a little to offer up the spot Spy had selected even more. 

“Good,” Spy praised, voice low with arousal. He sank his teeth in again, shaking his head a little from side to side before sucking at the hickey. Before he released, he dug his fingernails into the first bite mark.

Sniper barely had time to react to the praise before Spy struck again. He moaned, low and long, breath coming in panting gasps as he rode out the pain. His hips rocked desperately, sliding his aching, leaking erection against Spy’s pants.

Sitting up, Spy turned to look at the precum smeared across his pants and sighed. At this rate, he was going to have to start leaving clean clothes here so he wouldn’t return to his base with cum-stained clothes. “I’m going to send you a dry cleaning bill if you keep this up,” he teased, though he was sure Sniper was hardly lucid enough to understand him. He seemed to be riding the high that came after the pain. 

“…Sorry?” Sniper offered, a genuine but bewildered apology. 

Spy rubbed his hands over Sniper’s chest, up over his shoulders and the hickeys. He dug his fingernails in and slowly drew them down all the way to the slight hollow between Sniper’s ribs.

“Spy!” Sniper wailed, trying to inch his way up so his cock would be within Spy’s reach, or he could at least rub against Spy a little more. 

“You have to wait, pet.” Spy stroked a hand over the side of Sniper’s face, affectionately. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?” 

“No!” Sniper protested, frowning up at Spy. “I do, I do!” He couldn’t seem to make those two thoughts connect—he wanted to get off,  _ now,  _ but he also wanted to be obedient. 

He bent and bit Sniper again, a little lower, under his collarbone. As soon as Sniper stopped thrashing, he bit him once more, another symmetrical addition to Sniper’s growing collection of hickeys.

Sniper pitched and rolled like a foundering ship, alternating between wild, desperate, wordless cries and sharp hisses of pain. 

Laughing, Spy pulled away, getting off Sniper and stripping off his pants. He dug out the lube from under Sniper’s bed and slicked his fingers. Still, he ignored Sniper’s cock in favour of opening him up, slowly pressing in two fingers and stroking at the muscle in him until he could easily separate them inside Sniper.

Sniper wriggled with anticipation—anything that required Spy to take  _ off  _ clothes surely meant he was getting closer to letting Sniper finish. “Ah, yes, Spy!” He rocked beneath Spy, fucking himself as hard and fast as he could, getting as much pleasure in as possible before Spy reined him in again. 

Watching Sniper acting so eager, so needy, was a treat. Spy took the head of Sniper’s cock in his mouth just for a moment before backing off again. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Spy,  _ yes,  _ god,  _ please!”  _ If Spy wanted to hear him beg, Sniper was fully prepared to do it if it meant he’d get off sooner. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from trying to frantically fuck Spy’s mouth; it was a good thing his hands were restrained, or he might’ve tried to grab Spy by the hair to hold him in place. 

Sniper begged so nicely, Spy gave in. He poured a little lube on the head of his cock, letting some of it drip down. That would do, Sniper was ready and open for him. He grabbed Sniper by the back of the thighs, pushing them up so he had a better angle. Sniper’s ass wasn’t nearly close enough to the edge of the bed for Spy to fuck him, so he grabbed him and pulled sharply, bringing him right to the edge. 

Sniper whooped with delighted surprise, beaming up at Spy, practically vibrating with poorly concealed excitement. 

Spy took his own cock in hand to guide it into Sniper’s waiting body, then gripped him by the thighs again and glided in with ease. Sniper’s cock dripped lewdly across his stomach, the precum pearling over his body hair. Spy slid his thumb over the head of Sniper’s cock gently, smearing his precum over it and stroking it slowly.

“Spyyyyy…” The class name emerged as a needy sigh as his lover finally began giving him the attention he wanted. “Yessss, like this, this is what I need.” He nodded to further emphasize his point, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip as he fought himself to keep still and quiet and obedient. 

For a time, the only sounds in the camper were their moaning and panting, and the slapping of Spy’s thighs hitting Sniper’s ass. Each thrust made the key hanging around Spy’s neck bounce and jingle against his chest. With each little peak Sniper went over, he tightened around Spy’s cock. It took everything Spy had not to cum in him each time. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, fingernails digging into Sniper’s skin as though to physically hold himself back.

“You too!” Sniper laughed. “Fuck, I want to keep going but I don’t know if I can last much longer.” He shot Spy a silent, pleading look. 

Spy groaned, long and low. His hips snapped into Sniper, faster with each thrust, pressing as deep as he could. He was right on the edge. “Cum for me,” he panted, wanting to feel Sniper tighten as he came. 

The words had hardly left Spy’s mouth before Sniper clamped down on Spy harder than ever. He rocked and shuddered and fucked himself to a climax, his bound hands scrabbling wildly at the wall behind him. 

Spy’s last cry was loud, and slowly turned into hard, panting breaths after he’d cum deep inside Sniper. He pulled his cock out as it softened, grabbing one of the cloths Sniper kept for just this purpose to wipe the cum off the prone man. He took Sniper by the legs again and turned him so he was lying the right way on his bed. As soon as Sniper settled in, Spy made himself comfortable next to him, throwing a leg and an arm over him. His breathing had settled and Sniper, with Spy’s chest pressed to his shoulder, could feel Spy’s racing heart start to calm.

“Little possessive?” Sniper teased, once he could speak again. He happily cuddled against Spy, pressing as much of their naked bodies together as possible. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Spy grinned, knowing the answer. 

“No. Pest.” Sniper turned to kiss Spy’s hand. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“Of course. I know everything.”

“Mm-hmm. Know how to shear a sheep, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Spy smirked, stroking a hand over Sniper’s chest, letting his hand wander up to pinch at his hickeys.

“Not…right at the moment,” Sniper gasped, eyelids fluttering. “Right now I’m happy just like this.”

“That’s good,” Spy purred. His pinching turned to petting and soon enough his hand stopped moving as he began to fall asleep.


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the title sums this one up pretty good

It was dark when Spy sat up, throwing himself violently against the headboard. He didn’t know where he was. He froze in place, stiff, paralyzed with fear of what was around him, what was happening. He couldn’t make out anything and his nightmare had left him full of panic.

“Wha—Spy?” Sniper groped around in the dark, hoping he wouldn’t be stabbed or otherwise injured for his efforts. “Spy, it’s alright, you’re safe.” He was a little reluctant to identify himself—if Spy had just woken from a nightmare, he probably wouldn’t take much comfort in waking in the enemy stronghold, with one of his main adversaries. 

Spy felt the band of tension release his chest and he heaved a few deep breaths. Fuck, he shouldn’t have stayed the night. There was no way of knowing if he’d have a nightmare or not, but he hated the idea of anyone knowing that he had them, let alone someone who worked as his enemy. Lover or not, Sniper could still destroy him if he showed him his weaknesses. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” He stood, eyes starting to adjust to the starlight coming in through the camper window. He grabbed his clothes, starting to dress.

“Alright, if you say so.” Sniper tried to hide his concern, knowing Spy wouldn’t appreciate it. “You…don’t have to go,” he said, softly. 

Spy ignored him. As soon as his jacket was on, he cloaked and was out the door.

“Fuck.” Sniper flopped back on the bed with a sigh. It was still a few hours before dawn, by his reckoning, but he suspected he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night. Trying to settle his arms behind his head, he cursed again, groaning—he was still wearing Spy’s damn, fancy cuffs! He could cut the leather easily enough, but he didn’t want to ruin them. He checked the other items on the table—no key, Spy must’ve taken it with him, so there was no way he was getting it back until he saw Spy again. Given how abruptly he’d left, probably not until battle. For once, the upcoming day off seemed…lonely, rather than a pleasant break from constantly being surrounded by other people. 

Spy didn’t realize he was still wearing the key to Sniper’s cuffs until he went to the showers on Sunday evening. In order to have his privacy, and maintain his mysterious persona, Spy usually showered at a different time than his teammates. When he undressed, he suddenly realized the key was still around his neck. He hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Fuck,” he sighed. Sniper would likely have cut them off by now, and Spy could hardly blame him. What an amateur move on his part. Well, he’d go find Sniper first thing during battle, apologize for leaving the cuffs on. He wasn’t looking forward to commissioning new cuffs for his matching set.

***

Sniper didn’t look for Spy during battle—well, no more than usual. He focused on his work, on taking out the enemy Medic as many times as possible, helping out his teammates when they were pinned down, and did  _ not  _ think about the cuffs still wrapped around his wrists. He’d unclipped the chain between them, wrapped it in cloth so it wouldn’t clink and jingle and give him away, and pulled his sleeves down all the way to cover the cuffs. It was unlikely that his teammates would notice the extra bulk, especially if he stayed put in his nests all day without descending to use his bow or kukri. 

Spy, on the other hand, was watching for sniper fire keenly, and once he’d pinpointed the nest location, he headed up, quietly. He announced himself as he came up the ladder. 

“Don’t shoot,” he called ahead.

“Wouldn’t shoot you,” Sniper told him, in his low battle-voice. “Gun’s too long for that. Nah, I’d just chop you.” He tapped the kukri hanging beside him for emphasis once he could see Spy’s head. There was a new awkwardness between them, at least on his end. They weren’t purely enemies any more, but after Spy’s abrupt exit he wasn’t sure if they were still lovers, either. Like he needed more awkwardness in his life. At least he didn’t think it was something he’d done, for once.

Spy took the chain off his neck and tossed it to Sniper. “Not sure if you still need it.” He made an unhappy face. “I’m sorry.”

Grinning a little, Sniper caught the chain and pushed his sleeves up, flashing the intact cuffs for Spy. “Worried about these?” he asked, unlocking the cuffs, clipping them back together, and throwing them to Spy. “I wasn’t about to let such pretty things go to waste. I would’ve cut the chain if I had to—probably easier to replace.” He laughed, a little uncertainly. “Unless it’s some sort of fancy chain I don’t know about.” He rubbed his wrists a little—the cuffs  _ were  _ comfortable, as Spy had said, but they’d still left red marks after being left on so long.

Spy gave a clear sigh of relief as he caught the cuffs. He didn’t have a great way to hide them in his sleek and form-fitting suit, but he’d flatten them out and do his best. “Thank you.” He gave Sniper a little smile. “Like being in bondage on the job, hm?” he teased, staying in the entrance to the door. If he stepped any closer, he felt like they’d be enemies again.

Sniper snorted. “Yeah, I set this whole thing up so I’d be stuck wearing them.” Pause. “Pest.”

“Brat.” Spy took a step back. “You may want to find a new nest. There are spies around here, you know.” And with that, he was heading down the ladder.

“Brat yourself,” Sniper murmured, shaking his head. He felt a little better as he followed Spy down the ladder, carrying his gear. He moved to another—slightly less optimal—nest and set himself up again. His kill count went way up after Spy’s visit, which he chose to attribute to chance rather than relief. 

  
  



	7. Downpour

They saw each other plenty that week, in battle, but they didn’t speak again, or act like anything other than enemies. 

Friday evening, Spy was looking forward to seeing Sniper. Unfortunately, on his walk there, the clouds started to darken and by the time he got to Sniper’s camper, it was a downpour. He glowered. This was hardly how he’d wanted to appear to his lover. Bedraggled and soaking and looking like a drowned rat. But at this point he just wanted out of the rain. He knocked, before stepping in without waiting for a response. 

“Get out!” Sniper yelped, quickly pulling a blanket up over himself, face bright red. His expression softened when he saw Spy, quickly suppressing a smile at the rather wilted appearance of his enemy, and his deeply displeased expression. “Get caught in the downpour?” he asked innocently, patting the bed beside him. “Guess you can’t cloak your car and drive over, can you?” He smiled. “Makes me feel pretty important. I’d offer to help towel you off, but I’m, ah, kinda in the middle of something. Towels are in that cupboard.” He nodded at it. 

Spy couldn’t help a smirk. “Thinking about me?” he asked, as he took off his shoes and grabbed a towel from the cupboard. He undressed, hanging his clothing over the back of the bench in front of Sniper’s little table. As soon as he was naked he began to dry off, starting with his hair, which was a mess after having been soaked through the mask. Taking the mask off had pulled it up ridiculously and he flattened it back down with a scowl.

“Maybe,” Sniper admitted, pulling the blanket back down and stroking himself again—more slowly, after his fright—while he watched Spy. “I wasn’t sure if… Well.”

“If what, if I was coming by tonight?” Spy, now mostly dry, sat at the foot of Sniper’s bed, legs crossed, watching him stroke himself. 

“Yes.” Sniper found it a little difficult to keep going with Spy watching him so intently, but at the same time his close attention was very flattering, so he continued. 

Spy slowly relaxed as he warmed up in the camper. He was tempted to lie next to Sniper, steal some of his warmth, but he didn’t want Sniper to stop stroking himself. He was happy to watch him. Sniper could warm him up afterwards.

“Gonna help out, or are you just going to watch?” Sniper asked, voice a little breathy as he got close to the edge again. 

“I’m happy watching. And you never answered me. Were you thinking of me?” 

“’Course you are. Sex pest,” Sniper gasped. “Yes, alright? Yes, I was thinking about you!”

“Tell me what you were thinking,” he demanded, smiling.

Sniper licked his lips nervously, stroking himself a little faster as he recalled what he’d been fantasizing. He blushed, shaking his head slightly. 

“Come on, now, if you tell me, maybe I can make it happen,” he suggested.

Sniper laughed. “Maybe, but it’s not exactly the kind of thing you…y’know…talk about.”

“Were we fucking? Was I sucking you off?” Spy ignored his embarrassment. “I want to hear it.”

“Of course you do.” Sniper shook his head, his hand speeding up even more. “You…” He had to stop and clear his throat. He realized he couldn’t look directly at Spy and talk at the same time. “You had me cuffed to the front of the bed—not that there’s actually anything there for you to attach to—and you had me tied with my…dammit, Spy, this is hard for me!”

Spy smirked. “So I see. Continue.”

“...With my ankles spread, and you were fucking me from behind…” He shivered, cock leaking. 

Spy gave a slow grin, glad Sniper had finally given in to him. “I think we could arrange that,” he purred. He was just starting to get hard, and he took his cock in hand, giving himself a few slow strokes to help himself along. “And there’s an easy way to make an attachment there. We could do it tonight, if you wanted.”

“Oh, is there? Brought along some tools with you, did you? Better make sure they don’t rust.” Talking helped bring him away from the edge a little. He wanted to last long enough to see what Spy had in store, but still keep stroking himself.

“I know you have what I need here, because you told me about it last time I visited,” he said, teasingly. “I want to see you cum all over yourself,” Spy hummed. He was fully hard now, but stroking himself slowly, not wanting to get too worked up. “Maybe I’ll bring your fantasy to life, hm? Except you might not be ready for me to fuck tonight, after cumming so soon. Maybe I’ll rim you instead,” he smirked. “Or I could spank you.”

“Oh,  _ god,  _ Spy!” Sniper moaned. His hand was barely moving now as he fought to last, teeth sunk into his lower lip with concentration. 

“Maybe both.” Spy smiled, still fondling himself slowly. “I’m going to lick the cum off you.”

“God, Spy, stop!” Sniper laughed, helplessly. “Just bloody pick something before I pop like a tick!” He frowned. “Not the sexiest image. Sorry.”

“I’ve got the whole weekend; I can do anything I want with you. Now cum for me,” he demanded. 

Sniper cried out, almost in alarm, as he came across his stomach and chest, eyes wide. He bucked and shook and stroked himself out, before finally collapsing with a little groan in a sweaty puddle. “Fuck. God, Spy. Haven’t come like that since…years!” he gasped, sounding a little in awe. 

“And I never even touched you.” Spy sounded pleased. He sat up, crawling up to Sniper and doing exactly as he promised, licking the cum off Sniper’s chest and belly, his eyes locked with Sniper’s the entire time.

“N-no, you didn’t, did you.” Sniper shivered. His eyes kept darting away, and he finally pushed Spy’s head away with a laugh. “You stop that, sex pest. You’ll make me blush—again.”

Spy grinned, licking his lips. “I like making you blush,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Sniper laughed. “Let’s take care of you, before you poke someone’s eye out with that.” He reached out and lightly stroked Spy’s firm stomach—he couldn’t quite reach his cock.

“Suck me off,” Spy said, settling himself up against the pillows. 

Sniper eagerly wriggled down the bed and positioned himself between Spy’s legs, grinning up at his lover for a moment before his face turned serious. “I…I don’t want this to stop.” He sighed, shaking his head and looking away. “Sorry. This is…completely the wrong time to say that. I don’t know why I did.” Suspecting Spy would stop him, he lowered his mouth to Spy’s cock to shut himself up. 

“No, no.” Spy grabbed him by the hair, as gently as he could, unable to reach any more of Sniper. “I think you said that now so you wouldn’t have to talk about it!” Spy pulled Sniper up until he was on his knees, braced on his hands, one on either side of Spy. “I don’t want to stop either,” he said plainly.

“I’m…well, I’m glad.” He leaned forward to kiss Spy, still not able to completely meet his gaze. “Missed you this week,” he admitted, hoping it wasn’t too much all at once but unable to stop now that he’d begun. 

Spy kissed him back, tenderly. “Missed you too,” he admitted quietly. “Thought about you. Fantasized about you.”

“Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes.” He was a little breathless now. “Fucked myself with a toy a few times. Came thinking about you.”

“At least it’s not just me,” Sniper chuckled, enjoying the look on Spy’s face. “What did you think about  _ me  _ doing, hmm?” He cocked his head to the side. “Or what did you think about doing to me?”

“Touch me,” he asked. “I thought about riding your cock, about having you tied down and helpless for me, begging me to let you cum in me.” He’d had plenty of little fantasies about Sniper over the week, some he might not admit to quite yet. Though he liked the idea of Sniper being in control, of tying him up and fucking him mercilessly, he wasn’t sure Sniper wanted to play that way, or if he’d be able to let go that much so soon.

“Sounds like we’ve been thinking pretty much the same thing,” Sniper purred. Now that the talking seemed to be out of the way—his own bloody fault, and he was lucky Spy wanted to keep going after all that—he slid back down between Spy’s legs. He gave Spy’s cock a gentle stroke, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Thought about you sucking me,” he moaned as Sniper finally began to touch him. “Thought about fucking your mouth. Wanted to spank you and bite you and tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore.” Spy was happy to talk dirty to Sniper, he was shameless.

In response, Sniper lowered his head and took Spy in his mouth—he could at the very least fulfil that part of Spy’s fantasies, even if he’d come recently enough that he couldn’t do the rest. 

“Oh fuck!” Spy cried out, snapping his hips up into Sniper’s mouth. “I’m going to mark you up so much this weekend. I’ll be able to see them in a week’s time, next time I get you naked.” Spy’s fingers wove into Sniper’s hair, not pulling or controlling him, just tugging enough to let Sniper know he was there. “You feel so good.”

“Mmm!” Sniper’s words were muffled, but he let Spy know how much he appreciated them by speeding up, bobbing his head in earnest now, and digging his hands into Spy’s sides. 

Spy was having trouble holding himself back. Sniper was eager, and he was so good at sucking cock. His warm, wet mouth wrapped around Spy’s cock perfectly. “Fuck, Sniper,” he whined, “I’m not going to last. I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

“Mm-hmm!” Sniper hummed his assent, thumbs stroking Spy’s hip bones. 

Spy gave a strangled cry, clutching Sniper’s hair tightly. He came in his lover’s mouth. Shuddering, he slowly relaxed onto the bed, head falling back against the pillows. He let go of Sniper’s hair, patting the bed next to him. All he wanted right now was to be held.

Sniper inched his way up beside Spy, gathering him in his arms with a low sound of contentment. Making sure Spy was looking at him, he lewdly licked his lips, grinning at his own filthiness. 

Spy just laughed, gave Sniper his own grin, and kissed him deeply. He could taste his own seed on Sniper’s tongue.

“You’re a little more…earthy…than you like to let on, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m not always The Spy, and sometimes I’m just me,” he suggested.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I change all that much. Or any of the others. I guess I just assumed…”

“You don’t think a spy can put on different personas?” he teased a little. “And really, you’re different too, going to music festivals to get high and have sex with strangers.”

“True. All true.” Sniper shrugged, shifting Spy’s head a little. “But in battle, I usually see you as you. Or what I  _ thought  _ was you, but I’m beginning to think is just an act, mostly.” He laughed. “I think you still  _ prefer  _ things fancy,” he inclined his head in the direction of his table, with the collar and flogger, “but maybe you’re not quite as prissy as you like to act, mm? Maybe you do know how to shear a sheep.”

Spy laughed again, pressing into Sniper’s neck for a nuzzle. “I do like some fancy things, yes,” he agreed. Money had never really been an issue for him growing up, so he was used to the finer things. “But I like to be able to blend in anywhere. Including a sheep farm, maybe.”

“Maybe you just dress up like a sheep? Wolf in sheep’s clothing and all that?” Sniper suggested teasingly. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

 


	8. Domestic

Sniper made them breakfast the next morning. He kept humming softly to himself with contentment, then catching himself doing it and feeling foolish, though it was never long before he started up again. He was just so  _ happy,  _ a kind of deep contentment he hadn’t felt in years, if ever. He still wasn’t thrilled that it was the enemy Spy who made him feel this way, or that he apparently liked being  _ controlled  _ by said Spy, but his feelings were undeniable. 

Spy was awake, but sleepy. He watched Sniper readying breakfast and gave a little cluck. “Don’t you know how to chop potatoes?” he teased.

“Really?” Sniper raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t fully hide his grin. “You’re going to critique how I chop potatoes, while I’m making a lovely breakfast for you after a night of great sex?”

“Hm.” Spy stood, naked, and went to the small counter, nudging Sniper away with his hip and taking the knife from him. Sniper was cubing the potatoes, but one slice at a time rather than several. “You’re wasting time and energy chopping each slice like that. Stack them,” he suggested, making a stack of the thick slices and cutting through them. The way he moved with the knife was quick, graceful. He used the side of it to put the cubes of potato in the nearby bowl.

“You’re bloody ridiculous, you know that?” Sniper laughed, shaking his head. He rinsed the potato juice off his hands, throwing them up in defeat. “But if you want to keep chopping, I’m not going to stop you. I’m not exactly cooking for a restaurant or anything—have you? Or were you just born like this because you’re French?” he teased. 

“Fine, I’ll chop.” He continued cutting, stacking the slices, cutting again, turning them and slicing through them a final time before depositing them in the bowl. He was done quickly. “I did work in a few restaurants.” He shrugged. “And I’m fast with a knife.”

“Of course you did. Pest.” Rolling his eyes playfully, Sniper tipped the chopped potatoes into a pan with hot oil and butter, stirring them while they sizzled. After a moment, Sniper snorted. “Oh, I know you’re good with a knife, better than most. Not going to complain about you helping out, though, even if you are making fun of me.” He stepped behind Spy, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close, kissing the back of his neck. 

“Mmm,” Spy hummed with pleasure. “That’s nice.” It was also surprisingly nice to just cook with Sniper, to be domestic. 

Spy balked a little at that thought. He wasn’t domestic. He didn’t want a family life. This was just a fling. A very enjoyable fling with an enemy.

“It is, isn’t it?” The moment stretched too long and strange; Sniper let Spy go and moved past him to stir the potatoes again. “I’m…I’m glad you came back last night. Though you could try to do it without scaring me half to death, hmm?” He laughed. “I felt like a kid again, with my parents walking in on me!”

“Is anyone else going to be walking in on you?” Spy chuckled. “Not to mention, I was pretty happy with my welcome.”

“I should think not!” Sniper grinned. “You were quite the sight, yourself. I hope your suit isn’t completely ruined.” He reached out to stroke a lock of hair off Spy’s forehead. “It was nice to see you…a little less than perfect.”

Spy raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help a little smile. “I’m always perfect. Even when I look like a drowned rat.”

“Mm-hmm. The most perfect drowned rat in the world,” Sniper agreed. 

“Exactly.” Spy went back to the bed, lying on his stomach and grabbing one of the photo albums from under Sniper’s bed. This one was from his travels in Africa, and divided in half. Half of it was just animals and pictures of the scenery. The other half was Sniper with other people, most of the pictures taken at arm’s length by Sniper. Some of them seemed to be just friends, others were quite clearly lovers. Spy looked through it slowly, stroking his fingers over a few of the photos. Sniper looked younger, more relaxed. Maybe it was because he was travelling. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Sniper asked, when he turned and saw what Spy was up to. “Bloody pest,” he said, but fondly. “Make yourself at home.”

“Oh, I have.” 

“So I’ve noticed.” Sniper shook his head, but again without much conviction.

Spy continued to flip through, slowly. “Am I going to end up in one of your albums?”

Sniper blinked. “Would you like to?” he asked, almost shyly. 

Spy felt surprised to find the answer was, “Yes.”

Sniper nibbled his lower lip a little nervously. “Wait here a moment, then.” Sniper rummaged around until he came up with his camera. He took it lovingly out of its battered leather case and removed the lens cap, then frowned. “I think something’s wrong with it—the iris won’t open.” He clicked it a few times, changing settings, but the aperture stayed covered. “Shit.”

“Broken?” Spy confirmed. That was a pity, Sniper was a good photographer. And, admittedly, Spy wanted to be in a book somewhere in Sniper’s home. He wanted to be remembered. Maybe that was a bad idea for a spy, but it was true. He wanted to leave Sniper with a little piece of him after their fling was over. 

“I think so. Maybe my Engineer can fix it? I’m not sure how to—unless you know?” He offered the camera to Spy, a little reluctantly. It was one of his most prized possessions, and he didn’t let other people handle it lightly. Not while he was sober, anyway. 

“I don’t think I’d be much use there,” he said, though he didn’t like admitting he didn’t know how to do something. “I’m sure your Engineer could manage it.” 

Sniper nodded, tucking the camera into its case again. “Sorry, mate.” He sat beside Spy on the bed. “I  _ do  _ want your picture.” He gave Spy’s hand a quick squeeze before getting up again to stir the potatoes and start the bacon. “Breakfast’s almost ready.”

“It’s fine, another time,” Spy said. “And of course you want my picture. Wouldn’t anyone?” he laughed, putting the album back under the bed. He stood and grabbed plates and silverware, leaving them on the counter near the stove top.

“True. You are gorgeous. And surprisingly helpful in the kitchen.” He leaned over to give Spy an appreciative kiss. 

“I’ve been here enough times, I know where everything is.” It was ludicrous, knowing this little camper so well, spending enough time here that he felt comfortable.

“Mm-hmm. Not that you ever really bothered pretending you didn’t know where everything was—or maybe you did while I was still high?”

“I had been in your camper before then, just to have a look around.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” Sniper rolled his eyes but gave Spy a kiss on the forehead. “Pest. I shouldn’t encourage you— _ reward  _ you—for bad behaviour.” He shook his head. “I’m usually a better trainer than this. You make it difficult.”

“Have you trained a person before? Because I’m not a dog, I won’t beg for treats,” he smirked. “Not unless  _ I  _ want to.”

Sniper laughed. “No, I can’t say that I have.” He kissed Spy’s shoulder. “I don’t know, I think you might beg for a treat.” He fished a piece of bacon out of the pan and broke off a bit, holding it out in front of Spy. 

Spy gave him a look, but took the piece anyway, wrapping his mouth around Sniper’s finger as he did.

“See?” Sniper grinned, eyes closing with pleasure as Spy sucked his finger. “I have a feeling you’ll make me make up for that later, but…” Before Spy could reply, he busied himself lifting the rest of the bacon out of the pan, dividing it between two plates, and cracking eggs into the hot grease. 

“I might have to,” Spy said, mock regretfully. “Brat.”

“Pest,” Sniper countered, grinning. Soon the eggs were done, and he divided them and the potatoes between the two plates, setting them on his little table. This—waking up with Spy, cooking for them both—was becoming all too familiar, which only told Sniper how much  he’d miss it when it was gone. Unfortunately, he thought it might already be too late to back out intact. He should never have gotten involved with any Spy, never mind the  _ enemy  _ Spy. What had he been thinking? Well, he  _ hadn’t _ been thinking, or at least not clearly. No more getting high, he decided. At least around other people. 

Spy was having similar thoughts. He’d been thinking he was getting too attached, but by now he knew he  _ was  _ too attached. He’d already passed the tipping point. Sniper would be too hard to leave. It was a conclusion he was reluctant to arrive at, but that didn’t make it any less true. He’d been deluding himself, thinking this was just a passing fling that meant nothing.

“You alright?” Sniper asked, softly. “You look like you’re thinking hard about something.” He regretted the words almost immediately—if he could tell what Spy was thinking, there was no question Spy could tell what  _ he  _ was thinking. 

To Spy’s surprise, he opted for something close to honesty. “It’s just been a while since I’ve done this.”

Caught off guard by Spy’s admission, Sniper nodded. “I’m glad it’s not just me,” he said, wryly, then cocked his head to the side. “Don’t know if I’ve  _ ever  _ done…this. So much of  _ this _ , anyway.” He stared down at his untouched food. “Never thought I’d be much good at it. Not that I’m saying I am! It’s just… You’re still here.” He very cautiously slid his hand across the table, close to but not quite touching Spy’s. 

Spy put his hand on top of Sniper’s. He’d had a few boyfriends and girlfriends growing up, some even for a fairly long time. But his work demanded he travel, and disappear occasionally. It demanded he lie, which made it difficult to have real relationships. The older he got, the harder it was to connect with people, properly. He found it difficult to be himself most of the time. And he wasn’t sure if his habit of mirroring people—their habits, their accents, their body language—was really him, or if it was just a necessary tool he’d picked up as a spy.

But being himself around Sniper seemed… oddly natural.

When Spy took his hand, Sniper couldn’t help a small sigh of relief, hoping but not really believing Spy wouldn’t notice. He started eating his breakfast, looking up at Spy occasionally with something like wonder. He was sure Spy noticed, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to reassure himself this was really happening, that Spy was still here, just…eating breakfast in his camper. He was beginning to suspect the reason he’d never allowed himself to share this much of himself wasn’t because he wouldn’t like it, but because, deep down, he knew how much he  _ would  _ like it. 

They ate breakfast in relative silence after that. Spy felt a little better. Sniper’s posture relaxed and he had a sweet expression on his face, and that eased Spy’s own fears a little. Even if it was too late to back out of this without hurting himself—or Sniper, for that matter—maybe that was alright. Maybe he wanted to see how far they would go. How far they  _ could _ go. And if it ended in heartbreak, he would survive it, as much as he wanted to avoid that. He always had before. Still, somehow heartbreak and the end of a relationship felt comfortable compared to the idea of living with someone, or being in love.


	9. Fisting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry we're a little late with this one, I've been hyper fixated on a new project

Later that afternoon, Spy was happy to tell Sniper exactly how to please him again. It had been a while since he’d tried this particular activity and it excited him to try it once more. “One more finger,” he said, breaths coming in stutters when the fingers already inside him ran over his prostate.

“Are you sure?” Sniper asked, slightly concerned. “I don’t want to hurt you. Though,” he laughed, “you’re taking me very nicely so far.”

“God, Sniper, please,” Spy pleaded. He couldn’t even get himself together enough to demand Sniper do as he said. 

“Alright, alright!” Chuckling to himself, Sniper eased his hand into position so he could add a fourth finger to Spy’s already well-stretched hole. “Still good?” he asked softly, once Spy had relaxed around him and gone still again. 

He nodded. They were working him up to getting fisted. Luckily Sniper had fairly narrow hands compared to some of the men around here. Spy found being filled like that overwhelming and it made him cum like nothing else. He gave soft, needy sounds every time Sniper’s fingers retreated even slightly. “Good, good,” he praised, as Sniper slid into him to the last knuckle.

“I don’t know if you’ll—if  _ I’ll _ be able to get the whole thing in, at least not today,” he warned Spy, “but I’m keen to keep trying if you are. God, you’re tight. I love seeing where I just...disappear into you.”

“Fuck,” Spy sighed as Sniper slid inwards again. His voice was wavering, weak. “Just a little more.” His hands were fisted in the sheets, and he was dripping lube all over the towel they had, luckily, thought to put down. 

Sniper curled all four fingers, stroking Spy over and over again, increasing the pressure a little more each time. “Like that?” he asked, eager for Spy’s praise. 

His face was starting to grow red as he gasped for air. “Yes, yes,” he finally choked out. “Thumb,  _ please _ , all of you.”

“Spy…” Sniper began, then shook his head with a smile. If Spy wanted to be sore the next day—and part of Sniper would enjoy Spy walking funny and knowing he was the cause of it—that was his own business. He pulled his hand out enough to slide in the tip of his thumb, pouring more lube liberally all over his hand. Keeping his fingers straight and tucked close together into a point, he began to press in, slowly and gently. “Ready?”

He nodded, eyes unfocused. Sniper worked his way into Spy with care. Spy was mostly quiet until Sniper’s last set of knuckles, the widest he had taken so far, pressed into him. He let out a long, breathy moan, his hands moving from the sheets to the headboard, scrabbling at it uselessly for something to grip. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Sniper froze, not pulling out quite yet. 

“Don’t stop,” he demanded, when Sniper hesitated to push deeper.

“Ah. Those were good noises, then?” Sniper continued, keeping his hand as small and tight as he could. “You’re past the knuckles now.” Normally, with another lover, he might’ve said something about how well he was taking it, but his dynamic with Spy made it more likely for Spy to say something like that to him. He wasn’t sure if Spy would appreciate it, coming from him.

Spy nodded, locking eyes with Sniper as he took just a little more, a little wider, a little deeper. “Fuck.” He forced the word out through desperate gasps for air. His body was slowly accepting the stretch. Every so often it hurt, just a little, but he worked through it, waiting for it to resolve into pleasure again. He loved being filled up like this. “So good, good boy,” he praised. It had been a while since he’d said ‘good boy’ to Sniper.

Sniper shivered, pushing his hand a little deeper without meaning to at Spy’s praise. He’d forgotten just how much he craved it. “You feel so good,” he murmured. “Can’t wait to watch you come like this.”

The praise gained him another inch and finally he hit the widest part of Sniper’s hand. As soon as they’d made it past there, his body naturally drew Sniper deeper, until he’d sunk in up to his wrist. “Oh, oh.” He was so overwhelmed by how full he was, his cock leaking precum against his hip. He could feel how flushed he was; his skin was hot. Slowly, he let his hand drift to his cock, encircling the base of it tightly with finger and thumb. He was so close, but he wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible.

“That’s all of it,” Sniper told him, very proud of both of them. It felt like an achievement, a shared trial they’d overcome together. 

Spy felt the same thrill from it, from having Sniper all the way in him, pressed as deep as he could go. He was silent at first, body tense and gripping Sniper as tightly as it could, but soon enough he’d relaxed enough to give Sniper a few instructions. “Out again, just past the widest part.” He managed to get the words out with only a few whines and whimpers interrupting him.

“Pest,” Sniper said very fondly, barely above a whisper. He didn’t want to distract Spy from his pleasure. He obeyed, slowly pulling his hand back until he could just see his upper knuckles. 

It drew a keening sound out of Spy, his back arching, his hands grabbing at the sheets again. “Back in,” he gasped. He began to babble in French as Sniper obeyed him and his body swallowed him up again. Mostly it was praise for Sniper, begging for more, and expletives as Sniper seemed to bottom out in him.

Sniper couldn’t help smiling at the unfiltered stream of words flowing out of Spy. He wondered if the man knew he spoke French, and decided this wasn’t the time to inform him. Besides, if he  _ didn’t  _ know and Sniper told him, it might make him stop talking, and Sniper didn’t want that. He was careful not to follow any of Spy’s gasped French instructions. 

Spy managed to get out a few more commands in English, before lapsing back into French, and oddly enough the next thing to come out of his mouth was Spanish.  _ “Dios mío!” _

He stuttered out more approval at Sniper’s every action, in three different languages. He was barely aware that he was speaking at this point, it felt like the words were being pulled out of him. He put a foot behind Sniper’s elbow, bracing him so he couldn’t move. Once Sniper was under his control, Spy began to fuck himself on his hand, barely breathing as he approached his climax. Finally, he released his cock and gave himself a few quick strokes before he came across his chest and hand with a gasping sigh.

Sniper frowned, confused by the sudden—and apparently natural—switch to Spanish. Before he could comment on it, Spy levered him into the position he wanted, making Sniper’s eyelids flutter with pleasure. He tucked the thought away to return to once Spy had finished. He kept his hand still, letting Spy set the pace and depth, just riding out Spy’s pleasure. 

“That was amazing,” he murmured, once Spy had finished and seemed at least mostly coherent. “I’m not hurting? Let me know when you want me out.” He was still pinned in place by Spy’s foot—not that he minded. 

Spy nodded, limp against the bed now, his narrow chest heaving as he caught his breath. At first Sniper’s hand in him felt great, he was so full and satisfied, but once he began to come down, it felt too big in him and his brows drew together. “Out,” he murmured.

Nodding, Sniper pulled his hand free, smoothly and gently. He wiped it on a cloth, tossing a second one to Spy. “Need help cleaning up? Or standing?”

Spy nodded when Sniper offered to help wipe the cum and lube off him, then laughed. “I’m never moving again.”

“I’m fine with that.” Sniper shifted the towel out from beneath Spy’s hips, then lay down beside him, gently rolling him into his arms.  _ “‘Dios mío?’”  _ he asked. “Don’t you mean, ‘ _ mon dieu’?” _

Spy’s mouth twitched. He was somewhere between annoyed and amusemed. “This is what happens to spies who let themselves get fisted by the enemy,” he laughed softly, still limp and weak in Sniper’s arms. 

“Sounds like a lovely little saying for a throw pillow, but I’m given to understand that people usually fall back on their  _ mother  _ tongue in times of…duress.” He kissed Spy’s forehead. “And I’m glad you’re a spy who lets himself get fisted by the enemy.”

“Well, maybe I did,” he admitted, closing his eyes as Sniper kissed his forehead. “And I’m glad too.”

“Mm-hmm. Is that why your accent doesn’t always sound completely French?” Sniper couldn’t help probing a little, hoping Spy would be a little more forthcoming in this state. 

“Most non-Europeans never notice.” Spy sounded a little impressed. “I’ve become a little lax about sticking to one or the other.” He pressed into Sniper, tucking his head under his chin. “I’m both; my mother was French, my father was Spanish. I grew up with both languages. My mother lived in Spain, but we spoke mainly French at home.”

Sniper rewarded Spy’s admission with a flurry of kisses on top of his head. 

Spy chuckled. “You speak a few languages, don’t you?” Now that he thought about just how unguarded he’d been while in the throes of passion, he was fairly certain Sniper spoke French. It was likely a language he’d have run in to in Africa, and to be able to pick up his not-quite-French accent, it seemed to Spy he probably knew the language.

“A few,” Sniper admitted with a grin, wondering if he’d tipped his hand and let Spy know he understood French. “Probably not as many as you.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate you.” Spy smiled, running an appreciative hand over Sniper’s muscular upper arm. “And you speak French.” It wasn’t really a question.

“Don’t you know all the languages I speak, after all your stalking?” Sniper teased, burying his face in Spy’s thick black hair. He suspected it would be at least wavy if he let it grow out any longer, but Sniper could definitely understand him wanting to keep his hair short when it was under a mask for so much time almost every day. He wondered how Spy looked with his hair grown out a little, how long he might have had it in the past. 

“Do you know how little documentation there is on you?” Spy sighed. It was rather pathetic, how thin Sniper’s folder was. If it had been left up to him, he would have gotten more, but he could also see why there wasn’t much on Sniper. From looking through his albums, he’d seen how deep into the wilderness he’d ventured. Most of the people he’d met and perhaps shared things with probably didn’t speak English. They would be hard to find, and likely reluctant to share anything they knew about a friend to a complete stranger. Not only that, but the file had said that Sniper’s parents had chased the first spy off their ranch with a shotgun. The second spy hadn’t come back from that assignment at all.

“Really?” Sniper blinked, a little surprised. “Even for you?”

“If I had been the one to put together your file, it would not be so thin,” he said. “But as it is, I cannot just run off and find everyone you ever confided in and learn things about you that way. I settled for breaking into your camper and following you on furlough.” Spy smiled. He was glad he had.

“Huh. I kinda like that.” He kissed Spy’s head again. “Is there anything you’d…like to know?” he offered, a little shyly. 

Spy was quiet for a moment. “You would trust me with that?” he sounded surprised.

“I guess that depends what you want to know,” Sniper said, a little cautiously. 

Spy’s elation at the trust Sniper showed tempered a little. “Nothing important. Just anything you’d want to tell me. I want,” he hesitated, “I want to know you better.”

“I want you to know me better too,” Sniper assured him, voice softer. “Especially because you just told me something…well, I’d consider it important, and you didn’t really have to.” He gave Spy a gentle nudge with his elbow. “But you’ve gotta give me somewhere to start!”

“How old were you, when you left home? And where did you go?” Spy suggested a topic. He knew Sniper loved to travel, at least.

“Mmm…fourteen? Maybe fifteen.” Sniper snuggled even closer to Spy. This was a bit of a sore subject, and it was nice to feel Spy’s comforting warmth against him while he shared it. “It’s nice. Just…being able to tell you things, things you don’t already know. Or,” he laughed, “if you  _ do  _ know, you’re doing a very good job of pretending you’re hearing it for the first time, and that’s good enough for me.” He shrugged, jostling Spy’s head a little. “I stayed in Australia for quite a few years, until even it started to feel small. Left when I was…I don’t know, eighteen or nineteen? Ended up in Malaysia, just kept travelling west from there.” 

“That’s young.” Spy was a little surprised. “I didn’t leave home until I was nineteen,” he admitted. 

“Well, doesn’t seem like you had much reason to leave,” Sniper said, hoping he didn’t sound bitter. 

“Ah,” Spy said, suddenly feeling like he understood what Sniper meant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”

“No, of course not. You couldn’t—you didn’t know.” He shrugged again. “It’s not that bad.” He laughed. “I’ve definitely had a more interesting life than I would’ve…raising sheep!”

“True,” Spy nodded. “To both those things. But I know family can be…difficult.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow, silently prompting Spy to continue.

He shrugged. “My mother never particularly approved of me dating men. And my father and I… we don’t see eye to eye.” That was a mild way of putting it. They still were in contact, and they wrote letters back and forth, but there were many of topics they would never speak about with each other, and he knew his father still thought of him as incapable.

“Yeah, I can relate to that. Both of those.” Sniper kissed the top of Spy’s head again. “I’m…a little surprised to find out how much we have in common, I have to admit. Though…we do fit together pretty well,” he murmured against Spy’s hair, almost hoping Spy wouldn’t hear the last part. 

Spy felt a sweet warmth fill him at Sniper’s last remark. “I suppose most parents aren’t pleased to find out their children are queer.”

“Never understood why. Unless they’re trying to breed their children like…” He couldn’t stifle a laugh before continuing, “Like sheep.” 

Spy laughed. “My mother wanted grandchildren.” Though he had always argued that he liked both men and women, and he might get married one day and she could have grandchildren. Every time she knew he was dating a woman she’d pressure him to marry her, and every time he was dating a man she would stop speaking to him. He’d been dating a man when she’d died unexpectedly. It always made him feel guilty when he thought about it, and then angry that it made him feel guilty. He tried not to think about it, but if this was going to be more than a fling with Sniper—and at this point he was almost certain it was, despite his earlier resolve—he’d need to tell him eventually. Might as well get it over with quickly. 

“I think most mothers do. Not likely to get any from me. Though,” he stroked Spy’s back, nails digging in just a little, “I never let that stop me from trying.”

“Mmm,” Spy hummed with pleasure. “I’ve noticed.” It was a nice distraction from the admittedly sore subject he had accidentally brought up.

“Have you travelled much?” Sniper grinned. “Or would you have to kill me if you told me?”

“Maybe.” He winked. “Admittedly most of my travelling has been across Europe, but I was travelling often, for a lot of my life, even if it wasn’t always very far away from where I was before.”

Sniper nodded. “That’s about what I guessed. What do your parents do—if you can tell me?”

“If I said I couldn’t, I’d think that might give it away,” he chuckled. “My mother was a revolutionary when she met my father, they both were living dangerous lives at the time. Once they found out she was pregnant, he got her a new identity and helped her move to Spain. She became a metal worker. He travelled a lot, but we still saw a fair bit of him, and once in a while I would travel with him.” Spy considered neglecting to say exactly what his father did, but finally shrugged. “He also worked for TFI. I think you can guess his title.”

Sniper started laughing, and then he couldn’t stop. His eyes started watering, and then he was actually crying a little with laughter, dampening Spy’s hair. 

“Oh, stop that!”

“That’s just so…you!” Sniper finally managed, the tone of Spy’s voice setting him off again. He held Spy tight until he finally managed to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just so perfect and explains so much at the same time.” He raised an eyebrow, thoughtfully. “It almost sounds a little too perfect, now that I think about it.”

“I’d prefer you think I’m lying.” Spy cracked a smile. “At least you didn’t follow in your parents’ footsteps.”

“No, thank god for that.” Sniper shook his head, nosing into Spy’s hair again. “Wouldn’t have met you then,” he said, a little shyly. 

“Sap,” Spy accused him, with a little laugh. 

“Yeah, you caught me.” Sniper was glad Spy laughed as he said it.

“When did you start sniping?” Spy asked, as the question occurred to him.

Sniper shrugged. “Grew up shooting—foxes or dingoes or hawks going after the chickens or lambs. I liked making it more and more of a challenge for myself, seeing how far away I could hit something. My dad—” His voice choked up a little, but he shook his head and pressed on. “My dad got me a scope for my twelfth birthday, and then...all I wanted to do was shoot.”

Spy picked up on the painful emotions that seemed to surround Sniper’s father, but left it alone. If Sniper wanted to talk about that, he would. He didn’t need to pry, not right now. His curiosity had to be dampered somewhat with a lover he intended on keeping.  “You started young,” he murmured, stroking a hand over Sniper’s back. “No wonder you’re so good.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to mention that his father had gotten him into his career as well, bringing him along for cons when and where a child could be useful.

Sniper shivered with pleasure, arching against Spy’s hand and guiding it to his itchiest spots. “Well, I’m sure you started spying young, too, even if it was just at home and on your friends, mm?”

Apparently he was going to tell that story now. “My father sometimes found it easier to get into places with a child, or to have me sneak in and steal something. I thought it was a very fun game.” He smirked.

“’Course you did. You were still a pest, just a tiny pest.” Sniper grinned. “Nah, full-size pest in a tiny spy body. How old were you when you realized it wasn’t so much of a game after all?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Probably older than I ought to have been,” he admitted. “I had already developed a habit of stealing all sorts of things, and listening in on people, and finding places to hide.” He didn’t mention the go bags he’d packed as a child, thinking he may have to leave with only a moment’s notice, the way his father did sometimes. “I think by that point I couldn’t have begun a normal profession even if I’d wanted to.”

Sniper laughed. “I hate to say, none of this surprises me.” He kissed the top of Spy’s head again, then shrugged. “Neither could I.”

“I hate to be so predictable,” Spy sighed.

“Hardly,” Sniper reassured him. “I never could’ve seen any of  _ this  _ coming.”

“Oh, good.” Spy grinned, arching up a little to kiss him.

“On the other hand…” Sniper teased, “I don’t think  _ you  _ did, either.”

“No, I didn’t,” he huffed.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t let that get in the way of things.” Sniper’s hands wandered into Spy’s hair again, gently stroking and carding it through his fingers. “Wouldn’t want you to leave because of…professional pride or something.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to be surprised.” Spy closed his eyes with pleasure as Sniper stroked his hair. 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear you say. You don’t seem like the kind of man—either in battle or…or here—who likes surprises very much. But I definitely agree.”

“I don’t usually. I like to know what’s going on.” He kept his eyes closed. “But once in a while it works out for me.”

  
  



	10. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy adds a collar to their play.

That evening, Spy brought out the familiar purple and black cuffs, and this time, he brought the collar out with them. He grinned at Sniper, looking up at him with an enquiring expression.

Sniper hesitated just a moment before nodding, hoping Spy hadn’t noticed the pause. To him a collar meant ownership, commitment, but clearly it was just part of the game for Spy—and he was fine with that. He liked the thought of Spy putting a collar on him; he just had to remember that it didn’t mean as much—or at least the same thing—to Spy that it did for him. It was better that way, in any case. Easier. 

Spy fastened the cuffs around his wrists first, pulling the straps tight before locking them in place. He had to reach up a little to put the collar around Sniper’s neck, tightening it a little more carefully until he’d found the right size. He stifled a grin. “You do kind of look like a dingo in… what did you say earlier?”

“Mmm…” Sniper let out a soft sigh of contentment, shifting in the cuffs a little just to feel them keeping his hands in place. He ducked his head for Spy to make it easier to reach his neck. His contentment at feeling the leather band strap into place was cut off by Spy’s words, and he couldn’t help laughing. “…a tutu?” He suspected Spy knew damn well what he’d said. 

“Mhm.” Spy smirked. “It feels good, though?” He tugged a little at the O-ring attached to the front of the collar.

“Very,” Sniper purred, easily allowing himself to be pulled forward. Just for fun or not, he liked this—and his cock did too. 

“Where’s your rope?” Spy demanded.

Sniper raised an eyebrow and grinned at Spy’s commanding tone, but he couldn’t deny he liked it just as much as Spy did. “Under the seat closest to us.” He pointed to his little dining table. “The tops of the benches lift out for storage.”

Spy dug it out quickly, nudged Sniper out of the way, and measured out two pieces of rope in his hands until he’d found the middle of each of them. He looped one through the other so the pieces were connected without needing a knot. They were more than long enough for his plan to work. He tipped Sniper’s mattress up against the wall and put the join of the two ropes under the middle of the bed beneath it before letting it fall again. Now there were two ropes visible above the top of the mattress, and two at the bottom. 

“Perfect,” Spy chuckled.

“What wicked thing do you have planned, hmm?” Sniper was so excited he was worried he’d start vibrating hard enough that Spy would notice. He felt like a kid—like a  _ Scout. _

Spy just smiled at him, pushing Sniper onto the bed and arranging him how he liked. The ropes at the headboard he attached to Sniper’s cuffs, pulling them taut so he couldn’t move. He made ankle cuffs out of the ropes at the foot of the bed. 

He tsked, “Your rope is awful for this, I’ll have to bring better rope.”

“What’s wrong with my  _ rope?”  _ Sniper laughed. “First my potatoes, now my rope, what’s next? And anyway, it’s not exactly made for this. I’d say I don’t think there is rope made for this, but I feel like you’d just prove me wrong, wouldn’t you?” He tugged experimentally, eyes closing with pleasure when he found himself securely bound to his bed. His cock was flushed and hot with anticipation. 

“It’s too stiff, and rough,” Spy informed him. “And there of course there is  rope made exactly for this purpose.” Now that Sniper was immobilized, Spy straddled him, bending over him to kiss and lick and nibble his way across his neck and down his chest.

“Of course there is.” Sniper couldn’t even finish rolling his eyes before Spy was on him, driving all other thoughts from his head. “Hi,” he murmured, breathless. 

Spy laughed softly. Sniper was already completely out of it and they’d barely started. “Hi,” he responded, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth. 

“I’m sure you’ve got lots more planned, but I honestly don’t think I need all that much more than this,” Sniper admitted, once their kiss had broken. “Not that I’m saying you should stop!”

“Good. Also, if I stopped now, I think part of you would be very unhappy.” Spy slid backwards just enough to feel Sniper’s erection against his ass. It was already slick with precum. He rubbed his hands up Sniper’s abdomen and over his chest, then rolled Sniper’s nipples between his fingers, experimentally. 

“Well, I don’t mean stop completely!” Sniper huffed. “But…not doing more of what you’re doing. Without my cock. Am I making sense? You’re making it very hard to think.” Nearly whining, he rutted against Spy’s ass in quick, sharp movements, trying to get as much contact as possible before Spy moved away again. “Fuck,” he groaned, head falling back with pleasure as Spy tested and teased his nipples. 

Spy leaned over the side of the bed to grab Sniper’s bottle of lube—which was nearly empty, he’d have to bring a new bottle soon—and got up on his knees, just far enough away that Sniper couldn’t rub on him. He began to work himself open, biting into his lower lip as he pressed his slick fingers in past that first tight ring of muscle. 

“Spy!” Sniper wailed, straining against his bonds in earnest this time, but he was laughing. 

With a little smirk, Spy kept stretching himself to prepare for Sniper’s cock. He gave a few soft moans, spreading his fingers inside himself. Too impatient to wait any longer, he moved back on his knees, took Sniper’s cock in his hand, and fed it into his eager hole with a low groan.

Sniper couldn’t help a small, triumphant grin—it was more difficult for Spy to tease him when it meant also teasing himself. He groaned in response, teeth sunk into his lower lip, fighting to stay still as Spy sank onto him. 

Spy let out a breathy cry as Sniper finally slid into him all the way. He sat there for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being filled with Sniper’s cock. He looked down at Sniper with a wicked smile. Spy loved seeing him like this—helpless and loving it, tied flat to his bed, wearing Spy’s collar. 

“You feel so good,” he murmured.

“You too,” Sniper agreed, glad to see the look on Spy’s face matched how he felt. 

Slowly, Spy raised himself up, almost to the point of Sniper’s cock slipping out, then lowered himself back down. He kept his eyes on Sniper’s face, watching his expression change as he rode him. 

_ “God,  _ Spy!” Sniper barked, laughing. “You’ll drive me wild!”

“Maybe that’s the idea,” he breathed. He repeated the motion a few times, moving slowly at first. After a minute or so, he began to speed up, riding Sniper much harder. For all that he was the one being fucked, it felt more like he was fucking Sniper.

It was exactly as Sniper had fantasized, only infinitely better in person. “You love this, don’t you?” he growled, grinning toothily. “Taking what you want, and me helpless?”

“So much,” he breathed, gasping as Sniper’s cock filled him all the way once more. His voice steadied a little. “You’re just my fuck-toy tonight.”

Sniper’s hips bucked at that. Blushing at his obvious reaction, he turned away and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the knowing look on Spy’s face. 

Spy smirked. “Good boy,” he praised. “I love seeing you like this.” He raised himself up again, slowly again so his voice wouldn’t be broken by gasps. “Helpless. Begging to be taken. All mine.”

“Yessss,” Sniper groaned. “Yes, yes, dammit, yes!” he laughed, a little wildly. “Please, Spy, god, fuck me! Use me!”

Spy’s sped up again. Sniper’s words went straight to his cock and he finally relented and began to stroke himself. “Fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his breaths coming fast and ragged as he rode Sniper as hard as he could. 

“Spy, please, I’m so close…!” Sniper cried out, part plea, part warning. Seeing Spy like this, feeling him while being tied down, was so hot, so good. He wanted to last, wanted to finish after Spy, but just watching Spy stroke himself brought him dangerously close to the edge. 

“Me too,” Spy said, voice choked. “Cum in me, pet.” He bit into his lip, hips snapping up and down. He wanted to feel Sniper cum in him. “I’m gonna cum all over you.”

It didn’t take any more than that. Sniper came with a harsh, strangled cry, bucking against the ropes holding him in place, trying to drive himself just a little deeper into Spy as he finished. He couldn’t seem to stop, the waves of pleasure just went on and on, filling and simultaneously emptying him. 

Spy felt the wet heat spill inside him and his entire body seemed to tense as he came. His inner muscles tightened around Sniper, his fingernails dug into him. He came across Sniper’s chest, a few drops even hitting his face. Slowly, Spy came down from his orgasm. It felt as though he’d had an out-of-body experience for just a moment. He relaxed, still settled on Sniper’s lap, feeling the Australian’s cock start to soften in him. 

“Fuck,” he said softly.

“Fuck,” Sniper agreed, just as softly. His face was beaded with sweat, and he could feel the sheets sticking to his back and shoulders, but he didn’t want to move.

Carefully, Spy rolled off him, flopping next to him weakly. He heaved a few slow breaths before his heartbeat started returning to normal. He kissed Sniper’s side, curling up next to him, resting his head against Sniper’s shoulder. “Good boy,” he murmured.

Sniper couldn’t help humming softly at the praise, cuddling against Spy as best he could with his wrists and ankles bound. 

“Let me know when you want me to untie you.” Spy turned Sniper’s head and, with a smirk, licked a couple drops of his cum off Sniper’s chin.

“I’m happy like this for a little while…though I am pretty sticky, thanks for pointing that out.” He groaned. “I want to be tied up, but clean. Without having to move.”

“I’ve got it,” Spy assured him, standing up on weak legs to grab a couple of cloths. He cleaned the cum and lube off himself first, then Sniper. He tossed the cloths in the laundry basket and grabbed a clean mug from the cupboard, filled it with water, and sat next to Sniper. Supporting his head gently, he tipped the mug against his lips so he could drink a little.

“You’re a bloody wonder,” Sniper told him, feeling absurdly grateful. He sipped the water, eyes closed with pleasure, trusting that Spy wouldn’t spill all over him or let him choke. “You should have some too,” he laughed. “I don’t think  _ all _ this sweat is mine.”

Spy chuckled. Once Sniper was finished, he drained the rest of the mug and lay back down next to Sniper. He trailed his hand over Sniper affectionately, finally resting his palm against Sniper’s cheek, rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone. He felt very affectionate, and it made him a little nervous. This was getting more serious than he’d intended. 

Keeping himself relaxed so Sniper hopefully wouldn’t be able to read the anxiety in him—Sniper could be uncomfortably perceptive—Spy closed his eyes. He’d just let himself enjoy it for now. Figuring out what to do in the long run could wait.

  
  



	11. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a nightmare

Again, Spy woke full of fear. He fell off the side of the bed and pressed himself back against the cupboards on the other side, panting. It was too dark to see what was going on, where he was. 

Sniper tried to sit up, panicking a little when he realized he couldn’t. Fuck. They must’ve fallen asleep before untying him. It sounded like Spy had another nightmare, but he couldn’t do anything to help him. He could probably squirm free eventually, but Spy would either have recovered or left by then. Actually…maybe he could use this to his advantage. “Spy?” he said, as softly and evenly as possible, “could you untie me? I’m getting a bit stiff.” Maybe giving him something to do, something to focus on here and now in the present would help bring him out of whatever dark memory had woken him. 

It was Sniper. They were in his camper, everything was fine. He was safe. His chest was still heaving but he pulled himself up anyway, turning on Sniper’s light. They both squinted, and Spy hated that his fear was likely still plastered across his face, but the light helped him feel more secure. 

He untied Sniper carefully, rubbing his feet and hands gently. “You’re alright? You have full circulation?”

“I’m fine, mate. Thanks.” He stayed still and quiet, letting Spy hopefully distract himself by fussing over him. 

Spy nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. He turned the light off again, pressing back against Sniper’s side. He hated letting Sniper see him like this, but there was nothing else for it. He didn’t want to leave Sniper after having played so roughly the night before, and he wasn’t honestly sure which Sniper would hate more — him leaving, or him staying.

Deeply relieved, Sniper cuddled up against Spy as well, discreetly stretching his limbs one at a time to work out the kinks. He didn’t want to say anything, ask any questions, in case Spy didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. 

As soon as Sniper seemed to be done stretching and realigning himself, Spy grabbed one of his arms and wound it around himself. He wanted to be comforted. He wanted to be held.

“I’ve got you,” Sniper murmured, hoping that was the right thing to say now. “You’re safe with me.” He laughed, very softly, then whispered in Spy’s ear, “At least until Monday.”

Spy nodded as Sniper assured him he was alright, then laughed just as quietly. “Same to you,” he whispered back.

“Well, that’s lucky for me. I don’t know if you noticed, but I was completely tied up a minute ago,” Sniper teased, feeling a little more confident now. 

“Mhm. I wouldn’t have left you like that. … Again.”

“Would you have left if I hadn’t been tied up?” Sniper asked, worried he was on shaky ground again, but he was genuinely curious. 

“…Maybe.” Spy shrugged, pressing his face into Sniper’s shoulder. “I don’t like to be around people when...” He hesitated. “...When that happens.”

“Understandable. People in our line of work can’t exactly go around exposing weaknesses. Or even hinting there  _ is _ weakness.” 

“Somehow I don’t think you’ll take advantage,” Spy said softly.

“No. I won’t.”

Spy nodded, putting his hand on Sniper’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was surprisingly grounding. That overwhelming feeling of affection was back, and he wanted to say something, say how happy he was, how safe he felt, how much he cared about Sniper, but he stubbornly kept it all in. This was fun, but who knew what kind of reaction that would get. Sniper didn’t want this to end, he’d said as much, but that didn’t mean he’d want a confession of…whatever this was.

Sniper wasn’t great at interacting with people, but he was surprisingly good at reading them. He felt like Spy was thinking about something important, hard, but he didn’t want to break the fragile peace of the moment by asking. He was content to have Spy in his arms, to be able to comfort him rather than have him flee. 

Spy left the next day around noon, after having breakfast with Sniper. He kept the mood light and they didn’t mention the nightmares.

***

Battle was as it always was. Fast and exhausting, exhilarating and annoying. It was strange, to fight Sniper now. Sometimes he could see him as his lover, as a person, but mostly it was like he was a stranger, just a target with nothing to bond them together.

Spy wondered if it was that easy for Sniper to turn it off. 

***

Battle was as it always was. Long, dismal stretches of utter boredom followed by a series of shots as fast as he could reload. Spy showing up was the most interesting part of the day—but it always had been before this…whatever it was…had started. 

Sometimes he killed Spy; more often, because he was concentrating through his scope, Spy killed him. Somehow their relationship gave their battles an extra dimension, made his blood run a little hotter, made him that more determined to fight his hardest, in hopes of Spy praising him for an especially good block or dodge during their time together. He could imagine Spy naked now, in almost any position he saw him, and he treasured that secret knowledge. 

He thought about Spy every night that week while he was alone in his camper. 

  
  



	12. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some pleasant distractions, and one unpleasant distraction

Spy got to Sniper’s camper while the other man was out. He made himself comfortable on his bed after stripping down to nothing. He’d brought a book this time, with an activity in mind, and he settled down to read. He stroked his cock, idly.

Sniper opened his camper door slowly, cautiously, half expecting Spy to already be inside, but he didn’t want to call out to him until he’d shut the door behind him  in case someone else overheard. He wasn’t surprised to see him lying on the bed, and he shook his head in fond annoyance. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he teased. 

“Yes, it was awful.” Spy grinned. “Come here and suck me,” he demanded.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Sniper purred, slowly approaching the bed. “Just like that? No ‘how was your day?’ or anything?”

“Oh, of course, you’re right,” Spy laughed. “How was battle today, hm? Get stabbed by anyone interesting?”

“Might’ve.” Sniper stripped off his hat, sunglasses, vest, shirt, and undershirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. “How about you?”

“A handsome devil shot me through the head a few times, but other than that…” Spy gave himself a few playful strokes. He was half hard already.

“Same old daily grind, then?” Sniper crawled onto the bed, settling himself between Spy’s legs. “You going to put that book down, or…?”

“I think I want to read,” he said, suggestively. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“You want to—! Oh.” Sniper grinned, nodding his understanding. “No, of course not. I’m here to please you, after all.” He meant it earnestly enough, and hoped it wasn’t too much or that he came across as sarcastic.

Spy had a mischievous expression as he settled back against the pillow with his book, legs spread, one hand raised, waiting for Sniper so he could rest it on his head.

Sniper shivered. He might never have thought of this himself, but he couldn’t deny the fact that it turned him on, to be used for Spy’s pleasure while his attention was elsewhere. He also liked the fact that Spy was so certain he’d accept the offer, that he’d do exactly as Spy wished, that his hand was simply waiting for him. He obliged, lowering his mouth to kiss at Spy’s inner thighs, teasing him—and himself—a little first. 

Spy let his fingers tangle in Sniper’s hair gently. He didn’t grip him tightly, just rested his hand there, letting Sniper take his time. “Good boy,” he murmured. 

That was enough to push Sniper over the edge, convince him to hone in on Spy’s cock rather than teasing the soft, sensitive skin around it. He slid his lips over the head, forcing himself to go slowly, to take his time enjoying the taste, the smell, the subtly different textures with every millimetre he took. He wanted to savour this—though he also wanted to stretch the rules of Spy’s little game, see how quickly he could get him to put down his damn book. 

Spy gave a soft hum of pleasure, clearly not paying much attention to Sniper’s teasing. His book was a little pornographic on its own. Adding the stimulation of Sniper’s hot and eager mouth was quick to have him tightening his grip on Sniper’s hair. 

Sniper groaned, the sound becoming a low vibration on Spy’s cock. He tugged back against Spy’s restraining hand, just a little, just enough to feel that he was caught. He knew he could pull away if he really needed to, but he liked the illusion of helplessness. 

Closing his eyes, he rolled his head forward, sinking his lips farther down Spy’s shaft. He propped himself up on his elbows, forearms resting on the bed, thumbs and fingers tracing little nonsense patterns on Spy’s hips and thighs. 

Spy became quite involved in his book. As the characters approached their climax, so did he, his grip tightening further, his cock leaking precum in Sniper’s mouth. “Fuck,” he murmured.

Sniper smiled to himself, inwardly. He pulled back almost all the way, licking up the drops beading from Spy’s cock with lewd, exaggerated motions. He revelled in making Spy come undone, knowing  _ he  _ was the one undoing a man who was usually so collected and controlled. 

“That’s it,” Spy said softly, his hand loosening, beginning instead to stroke Sniper’s hair. It was only another page or so before he was rolling his hips up into Sniper’s mouth with a few short gasps. He let the book fall to the bed, his other hand settling on the back of his lover’s head as well. “Good, good.” His praise was short and breathy, and he came in Sniper’s mouth.

Sniper swallowed in ravenous gulps, milking Spy with his lips, tongue, and throat until he was sure Spy was done. He was very pleased with himself—he’d expected to take a lot longer. 

Spy held out an arm for Sniper, welcoming him up by his side. His face was still flushed. 

“Love seeing you like this,” Sniper murmured, slithering up beside his lover. “Love  _ making  _ you like this.” He grinned. 

“I’ve noticed,” Spy said, voice still breathy. “You’ve gotten very good at it.” He wrapped his arms around Sniper, burying his face in his hair. “I loved it.”

“I could tell,” Sniper teased, “what with you putting your book down and everything. I think I was at least  _ pretty  _ good at it before I met you—or do you mean you, specifically?” He laughed. “You hiding your face from me?” 

“Me, specifically,” Spy chuckled. “And no, I’m not hiding. I’m a Spy; if I were hiding you wouldn’t see me.”

Sniper couldn’t help grinning at that. Spy would occasionally say something so unexpectedly…adorable. 

“I can’t see your face,” he pointed out.

“I’m much more than just a face.”

“Yes, you are.” Sniper kissed the top of Spy’s head, glad Spy couldn’t see his expression. He didn’t think Spy would appreciate him thinking he was adorable. “You’re a chest and legs and back and  _ ass  _ that just comes out of nowhere… You’re a whole Spy.”

Spy laughed softly. “Yes, all those things.” He kissed the top of Sniper’s head affectionately. “What would you like, pet?” He brushed his knee gently against Sniper’s erection.

“...And a cock. But not so much of that, right now. I took care of that.” Sniper’s train of thought was neatly derailed by Spy’s touch. “I feel like, if I say, ‘to get off,’ you’ll insist I have to be more specific. Because you’re wicked and you like making me say things, mm?

“Maybe.” Spy grinned. He rolled Sniper onto his back, sitting next to him for a moment, looking down at him. He bent down and bit his shoulder, pulling the skin back a little with his teeth.

Sniper’s eyes went wide. He stared up at Spy, hips bucking in sharp staccato bursts as he rode out the pain of the bite. 

Spy released, stroking a gentle hand over Sniper’s chest. He bent over his other side and sucked in a mouthful of his skin before biting down on it, hard.

“…God!” Sniper exhaled, going perfectly still beneath Spy so he wouldn’t pull away, driving Spy’s teeth deeper. He laughed, a little wildly; Spy wasn’t giving him time to catch his breath, never mind  _ think. _

That bite was quickly followed by two more, Spy leaving red marks randomly across Sniper’s neck, jawline, and shoulders. He bit hard into Sniper’s neck and then stilled suddenly. He sat up, putting a hand over his mouth for a moment, muttering, “Shit.”

A nightmare vision burst in Sniper’s head—a chunk of flesh missing, blood running down Spy’s chin—and it took him a heartbeat to react. He tried to sit up, getting tangled with the pillow and sheets, clumsy in his arousal, but his head was rapidly clearing with fear and concern. “Spy? What is it, what’s wrong?”

Spy spat into his hand and out came a tooth. 

“Oh, god, Spy, I’m so sorry!” Sniper felt a deep, overwhelming wave of remorse, far more than he thought he should be feeling for something that was, at best, incidentally his fault. 

Spy raised a hand to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine, it’s alright.” He was smiling. “It’s a fake, it just pops out.” He pressed it back into its usual space, just behind one of his canines, then popped it out again with a little effort. “You didn’t do anything,” he assured him.

“God, you scared me!” Sniper gave him a gentle swat on the arm, laughing with delayed reaction. “You’re really alright? It doesn’t hurt?” He craned his neck to look at Spy’s mouth. 

“It’s fine, there’s no blood or anything.” Spy put his tooth back where it belonged, placing a hand on Sniper’s chest. “Sorry I killed the mood.”

Sniper laughed, flopping back on the bed with a relieved sigh. “I’m just glad you’re alright, mate!” He wrapped an arm around Spy’s middle, drawing him close to reassure himself that Spy really was ok. 

Spy’s hands wandered over Sniper’s skin, enjoying the feel of Sniper’s lean muscle under his hands. “Do you want to keep going?”

“I do,” Sniper insisted, purring happily at Spy’s explorations. “I just…need a few minutes?”

Spy laughed softly. “Sorry,” he said again, leaning into Sniper and, to Sniper’s surprise, leaving butterfly kisses across his neck.

Sniper shivered, pushing Spy away with a laugh when it became too tickly for him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for…technically.”

Spy grinned, not relenting, his butterfly kisses turning to real kisses up from Sniper’s jaw to his mouth and back down again.

“Ah…maybe I don’t even need that long,” Sniper gasped, arching his neck.

“I thought that might be the case.” Spy nibbled over an already red hickey, sitting up to start working his way down Sniper’s body, giving his nipples a lick and a suck before continuing farther down, kissing the hollow of his hip bones before undoing Sniper’s belt and tugging down his pants. He arranged himself between Sniper’s thighs and gave his half-hard cock a stroke.

“But if it happens again, that’s it for tonight,” Sniper said, half-serious. “If you start choking because you swallow your own tooth…” He shuddered. “It won’t happen again?” he asked, tugging Spy’s face up by the hair for brief eye contact. 

Spy just smiled, giving him a wink as he fought the grip on his hair and swallowed down Sniper’s cock.

“That’s not exactly comforting!” Sniper protested, his words cutting off in a squeak as Spy immediately took him deep. “Never mind,” he murmured, stroking Spy’s hair, “you just…keep doing what you’re doing.”

Spy bobbed his head eagerly, angling himself so his lover’s cock slid down his throat, breathing hard through his nose when he pulled back. He kept that up as long as he could before finally releasing Sniper. He took a few hard breaths before pulling back Sniper’s foreskin and lavishing attention on the head of his cock, licking up precum as it beaded at his slit.

“God, Spy, god!” Sniper’s fingers twitched and grasped at Spy’s hair. He fought to keep his hips still, not just grab Spy’s head and fuck his mouth—it wasn’t like Spy was shorting him on pleasure. 

Spy hummed with delight, letting Sniper feel the vibration of it. He stroked one hand up Sniper’s shaft as he sucked and licked at the head of his cock. 

“I’m not going to last!” Sniper apologized, eyes wild. “You feel…so good! Loved sucking you.”

With a few final bobs of his head, Spy wrung Sniper’s orgasm out of him, swallowing as he came down his throat. 

Sniper’s cry sounded almost pained as the orgasm crashed over him, leaving him helpless, only able to be swept along as Spy’s mouth drew more and more out of him. “God, stop!” he laughed, flopping back on the bed, too weak to even lift his arms to push Spy away. “I’m too sensitive now, fuck…!”

Spy withdrew with a smirk, wiping his mouth. He was breathing fast, chest heaving. “I like having you beg me to stop,” he purred. He arranged himself next to Sniper, leaving a trail of kisses over his shoulder and neck.

“Mm-hmm. I think you just like having me beg in general.” Sniper shivered, rolling to curl Spy in his arms. The kisses felt exquisite, but it was almost too much. His whole skin felt sensitive now. 

“I do,” he laughed, “but you love it just as much as I do.”

“Yeah, you’ve got me there.”

  
  



	13. Sick

Friday night, Spy did his usual routine. He came back from battle, sweaty and spattered in blood. He went to his private room that led to the attic. There he stripped off his suit and had his private bath. Once he was done, he dressed again in clean clothes, cloaked, and started the long walk to Sniper’s camper. 

He got there just as the sun began to set.

“Spy? Is that you?” Sniper wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the sound of footsteps on the camper stairs. “Shit. I hope that is you, because otherwise…that would be bad. But, if it  _ is _ you, go away.”

Spy hesitated on the step, frowning, but stepped in anyway. “I’m not going away, I walked all the way out here, I’m at least going to see you.”

“No!” But there was a slight laugh in Sniper’s voice. “I’m hideous.” 

There was a small, sad bundle on the bed, heaped with blankets and topped with Sniper’s red-nosed head. 

With a sigh, Spy closed Sniper’s door and sat on the edge of the bed. He had stopped wearing his full suit over to Sniper’s camper, only wearing his pants and dress shirt. No gloves, no jacket, no tie. Without gloves to hinder him, Spy pressed his hand to Sniper’s forehead. He was cold and sweating. “How long have you been sick?”

“God, you’ll never want to look at me again,” Sniper protested, sucking his head under the covers. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Spy chided, turning his back to Sniper and grabbing him a cloth. He held it under Sniper’s water jug until it was wet. The water wasn’t terribly cold, but Sniper didn’t have running water, so it would have to do. He took the covers in one hand and tugged them back down, revealing Sniper’s flushed and sweaty face. He wiped the sweat off his face first, gently, then folded the cloth and put it on his forehead. He stood again, filling a mug with water and sitting down next to Sniper, helping him sit up enough to drink it. “Think you can eat anything?”

“Maybe,” Sniper said, doubtfully. “You really don’t have to do all this. And I don’t want to get you sick.” He sneezed, then grinned. “Not until Monday, anyway.”

“I’ll be fine,” Spy assured him, grabbing him a tissue. “I’ll make soup, how about, and you eat what you can.” It was strange, but he knew what was in every cupboard and drawer of the camper now that he’d been here so many times. It was starting to feel very familiar.

“You’re ridiculous. Thanks.” Blowing his nose, Sniper settled back on the bed. Normally he didn’t like having people in his camper, even lovers, but he felt surprisingly comfortable with Spy. Maybe because he’d been in a state of altered consciousness when Spy had first entered, but he’d never felt like an intruder. He moved so freely and casually about the camper, and Sniper felt like it  _ should  _ have bothered him, but it didn’t. 

Which bothered him. 

Spy bustled about the kitchen the way he was used to Sniper doing for their meals. Though lately Spy helped with preparing their food more often than not. 

He heated up some soup on the burner, buttering some plain bread to see if Sniper might be able to keep that down too. Once it was warm enough, he hesitated. “Want to eat in bed?”

“Tempting as that is, that just sounds like a good way to spill soup all over myself. Not like I have to go far.” Sniper emerged from the blankets slowly, groaning when his sore muscles protested the movement. Giving Spy a rather feeble grin, he settled himself on the bench at his little table. 

Completely used to seeing Sniper naked, his emerging from the blankets without a stitch on him didn’t faze Spy. He put the food in front of him, taking the cool cloth from him and putting it on the back of his neck. He sat next to Sniper, talked to him about nothing, letting him eat and listen without having to actually make conversation.

“You have to eat, too,” Sniper insisted, taking a few slow bites of bread. When his stomach didn’t rebel at that, he attempted a few spoonfuls of soup. “Feels nice on my throat,” he rasped. “Thanks.”

“There’s more soup, I’ll eat when you’re back in bed.” He was pretty sure Sniper was going to pass out as soon as he tucked him back in. 

“You have to eat,” Sniper repeated, blinking a little groggily. The hot soup—and Spy’s company and surprisingly soothing voice—were making him sleepy. 

“I will, I promise,” he said, rubbing a hand up Sniper’s arm to his shoulder. His muscles were tight. 

“Good,” Sniper said, mollified. He leaned into Spy’s touch. “This is…nice,” he said, a little more openly than he might have normally, but he wasn’t sick enough to completely lose his natural caution when interacting with people in general and spies in particular. 

“I’m glad,” Spy murmured, missing the emotional meaning behind Sniper’s words completely. Once Sniper had finished eating all he could, Spy helped him stand and rearranged the blankets on his bed so Sniper didn’t have to curl up. Not that he could sleep without curling up like he always did, Spy thought, but it was worth a try. He wetted the cloth again and put it back on Sniper’s forehead, stroking his hair. “You rest, alright?”

Sniper hoped Spy didn’t notice his look of disappointment at Spy’s reply. Clearly it didn’t mean as much to him, but he knew that already. Still, he couldn’t help a sigh of contentment as Spy got him settled in bed again. He wasn’t used to having someone to take care of him when he was sick, hadn’t been since he was a kid. Even then, it hadn’t been much more than a pat on the head and food every few hours—there was always plenty to do on a sheep station, and not much time to spare for an invalid. He was surprised to find he liked it. “Would you…? Never mind. Thanks. For all this.” He settled into the pillows and closed his eyes. 

“Would I what?” Spy pressed him, still stroking his hair away from his face. He kept his voice soft. If Sniper were actually falling asleep, he didn’t want to wake him up.

“Would you stay? You don’t have to. It was nice just having you here to…well.” Sniper’s voice was already fading as he started falling asleep. 

Spy chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sniper blinked awake a few hours later. His head felt more congested, but his stomach had settled a little. Groaning, he emerged from his blanket nest. He was momentarily startled to see he wasn’t alone in the camper, but he couldn’t help grinning softly when he saw that Spy was still there—fast asleep, sitting at Sniper’s table with his head pillowed on his arms. Somehow he’d never looked more handsome, not even in his fancy, flattering suits.

Sniper’s groans of discomfort woke Spy. He straightened up with a grunt and stretched out, his back cracking as he did. He gave Sniper a sleepy little smile. “Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm. Thanks to a certain handsome man I know.” He gave Spy a sleepy smile in return.

“I hardly did anything, the sleep probably helped the most,” he said, getting up and going to sit on the edge of the bed. “Need anything?”

“Mm-mm. Well…I wouldn’t mind  _ you,  _ but I don’t want you to get sick.” Sniper coughed as though to emphasize his point.

“It’ll be more comfortable here anyway,” Spy nudged Sniper over and settled in beside him.

They spent the rest of the weekend together, though Sniper slept most of the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's another shorty, so have two! <3 (And a few hours early at that!)


	14. Plans

Sniper didn’t broach the topic of their approaching furlough with Spy, though the weight of it seemed to hang over him as it drew closer with every weekend. He loved… spending time with Spy, but he didn’t want to push the issue, make Spy say ‘yes’ or ‘no’—or worse, an  _ awkward  _ ‘yes’ that really  _ meant _ ‘no.’ He enjoyed their time together, and tried not to think about what Spy might get up to during his furlough. Tried not to imagine the purple cuffs and collar wrapped around another man’s body—or woman’s, for all he knew. Fuck, he knew almost  _ nothing _ about Spy, not really. 

Time seemed to pass quickly over the next few months. They fought during the week and were together over the weekends. Such a busy schedule helped to keep them both occupied. Spy was struggling to decide if he wanted to—or even could!—ask Sniper to join him on furlough. He could think of nothing better than getting a hotel room with a decent sized bed and spending the week there together. 

Wrapped in each other’s arms after sex, with furlough coming up next the weekend, they were both fairly quiet. Spy’s heartbeat was still fast, his muscles relaxed. 

“Mmm,” he sighed, then praised Sniper, “good boy.”

“Pest,” Sniper gasped, very fondly. “Sex pest,” he added, hoping Spy wouldn’t notice how he blushed at the praise. 

Spy just laughed, still breathless. He had already made his plans for furlough. He’d booked a hotel room. It was big enough for two, certainly. Now he just needed to figure out how to ask Sniper. It would be easier to ask where  _ he  _ was going, see if he had plans already. “Furlough’s coming up. Where are you going this time?” he teased. “Another music festival?”

Sniper laughed softly, stroking Spy’s hair a little roughly as he fought to keep the excitement out of his voice at Spy’s chosen topic. “Nah,” he said, aiming for aloof, “I think I’m done with those for a while. I picked up something last time and I still haven’t been able to shake it.”

Spy grinned at him, elbowing him in the side. He loved Sniper’s little jabs. He gathered his courage. Fuck, this could make everything so awkward if Sniper would rather travel or be alone. “I don’t suppose you’d want to come with me?”

“I...I would like that. Very much.” It was a struggle, trying to decide how much to say, how much to show, to let Spy know how badly he wanted this without showing  _ too  _ much interest and potentially driving him off.

Filled with a sudden elation at Sniper’s response, Spy wrapped his arm tighter around him and kissed his shoulder. He tugged at the O-ring on his collar gently, knowing Sniper loved to be reminded he was cuffed and collared.

“Fuck, I’m glad  _ you _ said it,” Sniper murmured against Spy’s skin. “I was starting to worry—well, you’re a braver man than me, and I’m glad of it.” His neck went loose and relaxed when Spy tugged on the collar, and he let out a soft, contented moan. He was so happy, here and now, in this moment. He’d always been a man who lived more or less in the  _ now.  _ He liked this particular now, and he didn’t want to think about the future. Not beyond their furlough, anyway. “Do you have any ideas?” he asked, half-suspecting Spy already had a full-fledged plan in place. Or three. Fuck. What if they’d only gotten along so well because Sniper had been high? If there was nothing more to this than sex, the furlough together, so much time just  _ being _ together, could get very uncomfortable. Sniper brushed the thought aside, reassured himself that Spy knew what he was doing, even if Sniper rarely had any idea. 

Spy weighed his options. He could play it cool and pretend he had no plans yet, which Sniper was not likely to believe, or he could come out and tell him his plan, which might make him seem a little…needy. Sniper already knew he was fond of him, he reasoned; he might as well be honest. “I was thinking a hotel room for the week, a big bed, room service,” Spy suggested. “Maybe I’ll bring some new toys.”

“So, pretty much the opposite of last time?” Sniper teased. “Well. Yours definitely sounds more comfortable, anyway.” He laughed. “This place is a bit cramped for two for more than a few days. That sounds lovely.” He gently nudged Spy’s side. “You’ll turn me into a pampered pet if you keep this up. Dingo in a tutu.” That reminded him of the second half of what Spy had said; he gave a delicious shiver, holding Spy close. “I probably can’t even  _ imagine  _ some of the toys you have, can I? I’m…I’m excited. For all of it.”

“Good,” Spy replied, relieved. Sniper seemed just as excited as he was. “And maybe I want that,” he laughed, “to turn this dingo into a well mannered pet.”

“Am I your little project, then? I’m not making it very hard on you, am I?” He shook his head in mock-disgust at himself. “I’m a disgrace to dingoes everywhere.”

“You haven’t noticed me praising you for good behaviour?” Spy chuckled. “You’re a very good dingo. My dingo.” He threaded his fingers through Sniper’s hair, affectionately.

“Yeah, it takes more than praise to win over a dingo,” Sniper laughed, “a  _ proper  _ dingo, anyway.” He cuddled against Spy with a contented yawn. He felt like the weight that had been slowly dragging him down, even when Spy was around, had lifted. He was actually looking forward to furlough now. 

Spy stifled a yawn, then gave in and let it out. “You’ve worn me out,” he murmured.

Sniper yawned in response. “Yeah, me too. It’s a good thing we have respawn, or I’d just be worn out all the time, between you and…well, you.”

He laughed, settling in to sleep in their usual position—Sniper curled up, Spy lying on his side with his chin resting on Sniper’s head.


	15. Flogger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> furlough together

Furlough came and Spy met Sniper at the spot they had picked out ahead of time, in Teufort. From there they took a train to a larger city where Spy had found a far nicer hotel than the one in Teufort. Spy had brought not only a suitcase but a sturdy—though still clearly expensive, of course—duffel bag as well. He was still dressed very similarly to his uniform—dress pants, a dress shirt, and fancy Italian shoes—but again, no mask, no tie, no gloves, and no jacket. 

Spy led them to their hotel. They had adjoining rooms; Spy hadn’t wanted anyone to think twice about the two of them checking in together. Once they got up, Spy let them in and sank into the bed. Travelling like that was tiring.

“What do you think?” he asked, letting Sniper look around their plush room.

Sniper stopped, blinking, in the doorway. “Holy Dooley, mate! I’m surprised they even let me in a place like this.”

“So am I,” he teased. “A dingo like you in a place this nice.”

“There’d better not be a tutu in one of those bags.” Sniper shook his head. “I don’t even want to know how much this cost you.” He sat beside Spy on the bed, giving an experimental bounce. “Comfy.” He bounced again, a little harder. “A little  _ squeaky,  _ though. Hopefully no one’ll call the cops on a couple of poofters like us.”

“Does money really matter at this point? We’re being paid an exorbitant amount,” Spy chuckled. “And I doubt anyone will hear us. In a place like this the walls are thick, no one wants to hear their neighbours. And we do have the room next to us.” He’d actually booked three rooms—they were staying in the middle, with the ones on  _ either _ side reserved as a buffer, but he didn’t plan on telling Sniper about the third room. 

“True, true.” Sniper chuckled. “I guess I’m used to thin walls.”

Spy gave a long, happy sigh before sitting up to undo his shoes and start taking off his shirt. “I don’t plan on leaving this room until tomorrow.”

Sniper flopped back on the bed, echoing Spy’s sigh. “Why would we want to go anywhere else?” he laughed. “This isn’t a bed, it’s a bloody…cricket field covered in pillows!”

“Well, I do have some plans to leave the hotel, but it could be any day this week. Mostly I just want to stay here,” he admitted. He was excited for his plans outside though—he’d found a place he was sure Sniper would enjoy, and he wanted to be there with him, even if he wasn’t entirely sure they would be  _ his _ favourite activities. He wanted to be with Sniper, and do things Sniper enjoyed. It was starting to feel like they were dating, really dating. Neither of them had talked about it, but they both seemed happy to be with each other pretty much all the time, when they could.

“What kind of plans?” Sniper asked, stifling a yawn. He wanted to do things—both in and out of the hotel room—but the giant bed was slowly, gloriously sapping his energy and closing his eyes. 

“You’ll see,” Spy promised, stripping naked and pressing against Sniper. He had thought they’d have sex their first night here, but they were both exhausted, and Sniper seemed to be falling asleep. 

Sniper laughed softly, wrapping his arms and legs around Spy. “I’m getting sleepy, but you can feel free to change my mind if you’ve got other plans…for right now.”

Spy smiled, pressing their foreheads together briefly before kissing him, deeply.

Sniper eagerly returned the kiss, stroking Spy’s back and sides. “For once,  _ I _ feel overdressed for the occasion.”

“Then strip,” he commanded.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Sniper purred, rolling out of bed almost before Spy had finished speaking. “Should I salute you? Call you sir?” he teased. “Bet you’ve got a riding crop in that bag of yours, hmm?”

“You could call me sir.” He grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling a few things out of his duffel bag. 

Sniper recognized his collar and cuffs, as well as the matching flogger, and, as he’d suspected, there was a riding crop in the mix as well. 

“I wouldn’t say no.”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Sniper pretended to think. “Maybe you haven’t quite earned that yet. Maybe  _ I  _ haven’t quite earned that yet.” He felt like he was treading dangerously close to the boundaries of their relationship, but it gave him a rush. He couldn’t wait to hear Spy’s response. 

“Maybe you’ll have to earn it this week,” Spy suggested. He felt the same way he suspected Sniper did, based on the expressions he saw flitting across the Australian’s face. That kind of title, that kind of dynamic, that was different from what they had now. Did they really want to go there? As sexy as it could be, it was also a deeper sort of relationship. 

“Maybe I’d like that,” Sniper agreed, softly.

Spy strapped Sniper into cuffs and collar, tying his cuffs to the O-ring of the collar, giving him less than a foot of slack for each hand. He pushed him onto the bed on his front, rubbing a proprietary hand over Sniper’s ass.

“I feel like a kangaroo,” Sniper grumbled, laughing as he demonstrated his foreshortened arms. He gasped with pleasure when Spy pushed him down, eagerly pressing back against Spy’s hand.

“A helpless kangaroo,” Spy chuckled, giving Sniper a light swat on the rear. He picked up the flogger first, and for a few moments he just teased with it, letting the falls tickle at Sniper’s skin.

“I could still kick you.” Sniper raised a leg slowly, cautiously, rubbing it against Spy’s groin. “But I don’t want to.” His voice got soft and distracted, fading into nothing as Spy started in on him. 

“I don’t think you’re quite that naughty,” Spy murmured, finally lifting the flogger and snapping it over Sniper’s ass with the tips of the falls. 

“No. And it wouldn’t be in my best interests, now would—ah!” He cried out with delighted agony as Spy finally struck his first, hard blow. 

With a smile, Spy struck him again and again. He kept the strikes sharp and precise, rubbing his cool palm over the red skin after every dozen or so blows. He switched to Sniper’s back, the falls biting across Sniper’s shoulder blades.

“God, Spy,  _ God!”  _ Sniper arched and bucked beneath him, fighting to stay still and not squirm away from the flogger. It felt so good, but it was hard to override his body’s instincts to escape. 

Spy was glad they hadn’t settled down to sleep. This was much more fun. He gave Sniper a few dozen strikes there before dropping the flogger and bending down over Sniper to kiss the pink and red lines across his back and ass. “Feel good?” he asked.

“So good,” he purred. “God, I—this feels amazing.  _ You  _ feel amazing.”

“Good boy.” Spy stroked a hand over Sniper’s hair. “You’re taking it so well.” 

“Trying,” Sniper panted, grinning.

Spy grabbed the riding crop now. His first swats were gentle, just light pats, but soon enough he’d worked Sniper up to hard slaps. 

Sniper’s eyes widened with pleasure and his upper body went limp, leaving him with his ass in the air and his face planted in the mattress, but he didn’t mind. “God, Spy, that feels even better!” he laughed, delighted. “I much…much prefer when you…not Soldier,” he gasped, finding it hard to form words, never mind coherent sentences. 

Spy laughed. “I’m surprised he’s gotten you, you’re usually so far removed from the actual battle.” He paused to rub his hand over Sniper’s skin. He could see perfect imprints of the tip of the crop, complete with stitching. It was beautiful. 

“It doesn’t happen often,” Sniper admitted, once Spy had given him a chance to catch his breath. 

“Oh!” Spy suddenly stood, putting the toy down and going to his duffel bag.

“Spy!” Sniper cried out, forlorn, when the man abruptly disappeared and stopped touching him. 

“Shh, it’s worth it,” Spy chided. He knew Sniper had taken his camera to his Engineer to no avail—it hadn’t been fixable. Spy had gotten him a new one, but had been—rather shyly—waiting for the right opportunity to give it to him. This seemed like it. He took it carefully out of its case and popped off the lens cap. The first picture was of the beautiful marks across Sniper’s ass.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sniper laughed, shuffling his face until he was resting on top of his head so he could look back at Spy. “Why would you stop in the middle of this, you absolute sadist?”

The click and the sound of the picture being extruded ought to have answered his question, but Sniper was too high on endorphins to notice it. Spy set the camera and the still-white Polaroid on the bedside table. He picked up the crop again, giving Sniper a firm whack with it. “Is that better?”

_ “Much  _ better,” Sniper sighed, giving a full-body shiver of happiness as he settled in for another bout. 

“Good,” he laughed. Sniper was so out of it that he hadn’t even seemed to notice the camera. Well, he would later. For now, Spy focused on the crack of the riding crop across Sniper’s back and butt. It wouldn’t be long before Sniper was completely in subspace. 

“God, we haven’t even been here an hour and—nhhh!—this is already so amazing!” Sniper laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’ll last a whole week at this rate… But don’t slow down!” he added, a desperate edge to his words.

“I’ll let you rest in between.” Spy grinned. “Or else you might not survive.” Sniper’s skin was getting redder and redder, and a few purplish welts started appearing on his ass. Spy backed off a little, taking the crop away and rubbing his palm over the hot skin, tenderly. After he’d stroked all his marks, he pressed his fingertips into the welts. “You feel that?”

“Yesssss…” Sniper hissed, eyelids fluttering wildly, ass bumping and jerking against Spy’s hand—first pulling away, then pressing back harder. “God, yes,  _ Spy!” _

Spy returned to stroking his skin gently for a moment, before starting to spank him with his bare hand. He kept his free hand on Sniper’s back, feeling every flinch, every shudder, every time he arched up for more. “Good boy.”

Sniper giggled and whimpered and made a colourful, unexpected assortment of noises as Spy drew them out of him. “S-so good,” he murmured, panting a little, a huge grin on his face. 

Spy covered his mouth with one hand, stifling his laughter. Sniper was making all sorts of sounds Spy had never dreamed he would—or even  _ could _ —make. Some of them were just adorable—a quality he didn’t usually expect from a seasoned mercenary—and some of the cries just made him feel proud that he could drag those kinds of sounds out of Sniper with just his hands. 

“Think you can cum just from this?” he asked, his own voice a little breathy with excitement.

“It’s…not out of the question,” Sniper, who’d been wondering exactly that, admitted. “Think  _ you  _ can?” he laughed.

“Not quite,” he said, but he pressed his erection up against Sniper’s thigh. “But I won’t last long if you suck me afterwards.” The hand on Sniper’s back slid up his neck to take a handful of his hair as Spy continued to spank him, his blows stingy and hard.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sniper gasped, “I’ll take care of you real nice, just like you’re taking care of me.” He cried out wordlessly— _ beyond  _ words—trying to simultaneously lift his ass in the air without pulling too hard against Spy’s hand in his hair. 

“I know you will, pet,” Spy said, his voice soothing. He kept up the slaps on Sniper’s red and welt-covered ass until he judged Sniper was right on the edge of too much. “Cum for me.”

Sniper came with a wild, hoarse cry within moments of Spy’s command. Everything went white for a moment, then black, and he briefly worried he’d pass out from cumming so hard, and wouldn’t  _ that  _ be embarrassing! Spy continued spanking him throughout, and once Sniper had finished it quickly became too much. Shaking his head, he flattened himself to the bed with his legs tucked under him, ass lowered. 

Spy released his grip on Sniper’s hair, rubbing his hands over Sniper’s ass, gentling him. “That’s it,” he murmured. “You did so well, you took so much,” he praised, bending down to kiss Sniper’s back and shoulders. “It’s fine if you’re not up for anything else,” he said, realizing that he may have been asking too much of Sniper, to please him after this kind of play. 

Sniper allowed himself to be a loaf for a few more seconds, then shook his head. “No. Cock. Mouth. Now.” He managed to get his limbs under himself and rise to all fours, shakily crawling towards Spy, revelling in the way the welts on his ass felt as he moved.

Spy laughed, lying back on the bed and helping Sniper get settled between his legs. “Eager, aren’t you?” he teased gently. “You’re so good to me.”

“Only because you’re so good to me,” Sniper assured him, settling in place with a contented sigh. He reached out and, softly, almost reverently, stroked Spy’s inner thigh, teasing Spy—and himself—just a little before switching to his mouth.

With a low groan, Spy let his head fall back on the pillows, resting a hand on top of Sniper’s head. He had already been so hard, his cock leaking even before being touched. “Oh, Sniper,” he moaned. 

“Mmm,” Sniper hummed, pressing his lips to Spy’s shaft and kissing his way to the head. He wrapped his lips around it, just holding it in his mouth for a moment, savouring the weight, the heat, the taste. Spy’s pubic hair always smelled—but didn’t taste—like his cologne, a mystery Sniper hadn’t been able to solve yet. Maybe this week, living together in close proximity—and not in a camper without any of Spy’s amenities—he’d finally learn Spy’s secret. 

As Sniper’s hot wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, Spy let out a sigh. It was a relief to be touched, finally. Playing with Sniper had gotten him hard so quickly, but he hadn’t wanted to take the focus off Sniper to take care of himself. Waiting had made it that much sweeter. “You feel so good.”

Sniper pulled back just long enough to murmur, “You too,” before sliding down until the head of Spy’s cock hit the back of his throat. He breathed slowly and evenly through his nose, letting Spy settle there for a moment before he began to move. 

“Fuck,” Spy breathed. “I won’t last long,” he warned.

Sniper nodded, incorporating the gesture into his movement. Wrapping a hand around the base of Spy’s shaft, he began to stroke, slowly and evenly, concentrating his mouth on Spy’s head. 

His back arched and his fingers tightened in Sniper’s hair, and he let out a long cry as he came. His sounds of pleasure didn’t feel as loud in the big room, compared to the little camper, and he had no qualms about being loud.

Relieved he’d backed off a bit, Sniper made a seal with his lips and swallowed, using the tip of his tongue to lap up every drop. He loved hearing Spy like this, as wild and passionate and unfettered as he was in battle. 

Spy gave a few soft ‘oh’s as he collapsed onto the bed, weak and exhausted. “My Sniper,” he murmured, gesturing for him to come up and join him against the pillows. He felt so full of affection for his partner suddenly, but didn’t dare let it out into words. It was too soon, and maybe it would never be the right time. Maybe it  _ shouldn’t _ ever come out, for both their sakes. 

“Your Sniper,” he agreed, sliding up to cuddle against Spy’s side. He brushed a lock of hair—slightly damp with sweat—off Spy’s forehead. “You’ll need to cut it soon, won’t you? It’s a pity. You have such beautiful hair.”

Spy gave Sniper a barely lucid smile. “You’re sweet.” He brushed a hand over his hair. “It is getting a bit long for the mask,” he agreed. “It’s not very comfortable unless it’s short.”

“I figured. Still…” Sniper petted it, slowly and gently, running his fingers through the strands. “I’ll enjoy it while I can.”

Eyes closed, Spy enjoyed Sniper stroking his hair. A thought roused him enough to open his eyes again and lever himself up on an elbow. “You should have some water. Are you hungry?” 

“So sweet to me.” Sniper rolled just enough to kiss Spy’s cheek. “You’re probably right, though.” Groaning, he heaved himself off the bed and onto his feet, staggering in the direction of the bathroom. There were two cups sitting beside the sink, and he filled both with water before returning and handing one to Spy. “How do we get food in this place?”

At first Spy didn’t answer, too busy drinking his water. He’d been thirstier than he’d realized. “Mm,” he started when he put down his glass. He indicated the phone, pulling a menu out from under it and handing it to Sniper. 

“This, ah…this doesn’t…” Sniper’s face briefly went red, then paled a little. He couldn’t look at Spy. He wanted to retreat into the bathroom and hide, but he couldn’t quite get his legs to cooperate. 

All at once, something clicked in Spy’s brain. Sniper had no books. No notes. No writing on his photographs. No writing at all in his camper. Why would he keep any if he couldn’t read it? Spy took the menu back and began to read it to Sniper, glancing up at him after reading a few items. He didn’t want to ignore Sniper’s discomfort, exactly, but alleviate it.

Sniper’s face was still stony and shut down. 

Spy stopped. “Sniper, I don’t care, really. It doesn’t…” He cut himself off before he said it didn’t matter. It clearly mattered to Sniper. “It doesn’t change anything for us.”

Sniper sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not like you. I’m not…clever, and educated, and…” He laughed, harshly. “I can’t even fucking  _ read,  _ Spy.”

“Laurent.” Spy practically interrupted Sniper’s last word. It just came out, almost before he’d thought of it. He’d wanted to give Sniper a bit of a jolt, surprise Sniper him with something, to offer him something of himself. Hopefully his name would do. 

“What?” Sniper blinked at him. 

“Laurent,” he repeated. “My name. And before you say anything else, being clever has nothing to do with an education, or being able to read. You’re very smart, Sniper. If you weren’t I don’t think I’d be so—” he panicked for a moment, trying to find a word that was enough, but not too much, not too emotionally charged “—so challenged by you, so interested.”

“You’re a pest,” Sniper told him, barely a whisper against his hair. “I—thank you. Fuck. Mick.”

Spy nodded, letting Sniper lean on him and avoid eye contact for a moment. “It’s probably best we don’t call each other Sniper and Spy in public anyway.” He smiled. Mick suited Sniper far better than Michael, which was the only name given in his file. “Let’s order some food.”

Sniper laughed. “Fuck, you’re right. That would’ve been…” He elbowed Spy’s side playfully. “I can’t believe you didn’t think of that and give us…codenames or something!” He gave Spy’s hair and cheek a few more kisses. “That sounds lovely. Let’s…let’s get something really stupid and expensive, mm?”

“Perfect.” Spy grinned. 

  
  



	16. Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they actually leave the hotel (for like the only time that week)

Sniper fumbled around in the dark—well,  _ near  _ dark. Apparently a hotel this fancy couldn’t afford curtains that actually blocked sunlight—for his water glass. He thought he had a little left. Before he found it, his fingers brushed what felt like a piece of paper. He frowned; he didn’t remember there being any paper there the night before. Sitting, he picked it up, squinting in the dim light. It was a man’s ass, red and blotchy from a spanking, as far as he could tell. Where had it come from? Whose ass was it, and why was the picture here?

Spy stirred as Sniper fumbled about. “Mmm,” he hummed, a very sleepy sort of good morning.

“Spy…” Sniper whispered. “You awake? ...Laurent?” He tried the name. It felt good.

“Mick,” Spy murmured back, smiling a little.

“There’s…something weird here.” Hearing Spy—Laurent—use his name gave him a little glow, but it wasn’t enough to entirely thaw the chill having the photo appear in their room in the night had given him. He passed it to his lover, hoping he’d laugh and tell him everything was ok. 

That he’d believe Spy meant it.

Spy took the picture, grinning. “Oh, you like it? I’m surprised you didn’t notice it last night.”

“Notice it?”

“Me taking the picture.”

“You… Did you show it to me last night?”

“No, you were so out of it after we played. But I took it when I stopped hitting you with the riding crop last night. You were so busy begging that you didn’t seem to notice the camera.”

“Wait…” Sniper snatched the picture back, leaning over to look at it closely. Finally, frustrated, he turned on the lamp. “Are you saying this is  _ my ass?” _

Spy laughed. “I thought you’d recognize your own ass. I suppose you don’t see it all that often. Aren’t the marks nice?”

“Fuck, mate, I was so worried! I thought maybe we were being blackmailed or something!” Sniper laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Yes, they’re lovely. Thanks.” He kissed the side of Spy’s head. 

Suddenly feeling a tiny bit shy, Spy put the camera itself in Sniper’s hands. “And the camera’s for you. I didn’t know what kind of camera you prefer,” he admitted, “your old one isn’t in production anymore.”

“…Spy…” Sniper’s voice was very soft as he cradled the camera. “Laurent. You didn’t have to… Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Maybe it was partially for selfish reasons,” Spy murmured, kissing Sniper’s shoulder. “I want to be in one of your books.”

“I’d like that. I was hoping… I meant to… I would’ve done it sooner, but my camera was broken.” He leaned against Spy’s side. “I was kind of hoping to get one this furlough, actually. Looks like you beat me to it. Pest. 

“Laurent.” Now that he knew Spy’s name—or at least, something besides his class name, Sniper wasn’t sure if it was his  _ actual  _ name or not—he couldn’t seem to stop saying it.

“Brat,” he returned, though Sniper had been less and less of a brat lately. It was just nice to jab at each other playfully. “What do you want to do today?” he asked, suggestively.

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t even know where to start, here in the big city,” Sniper told him, all innocence.  

“If you really do want to go out, I did want to visit one spot,” Spy played into his innocence. “But if not, I’m happy to order food and fuck each other silly.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. Though I do want to know the place you want to show me…” He chuckled at his accidental innuendo. “The place  _ outside  _ this room,” he clarified. “We do have a few days.” He squeezed Spy’s hand. 

“Whenever you need some air,” he chuckled. “You are a wild dingo after all, can’t expect you to stay cooped up in a fancy hotel.”

“It’s true. I’d gnaw my way out of my tutu and break out of here.”

Spy just laughed. 

After fucking each other silly, and a short morning nap, they ordered breakfast. Spy finally relented his secret of where they were going and grabbed a little pamphlet from his bag, handing it to Sniper.

Sniper raised an eyebrow, mouth crooking into a half grin. “You…want to go to a shooting range?” he asked delicately, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. Spy had built this up as a special thing, and he didn’t want to insult his lover’s plan. 

Spy made a face, opening the brochure for him and pointing at the next page. It advertised archery and fishing. “I’ve never tried either of these things, and I happen to know a man who’s very good at one, and I suspect very good at the other.”

“Ah.” Sniper laughed, giving Spy a kiss. “Yeah, that makes more sense than doing something I do every day at work. You won’t be bored? Or…will you try, too?” he asked. What an amazing, absurd image—Spy, wearing a fishing hat, making a face as he pulled a live, thrashing fish from the water. Spy, standing in front of him while Sniper positioned his hands on a bow… 

That had potential. 

“I was hoping you’d teach me,” Spy chuckled. “Watching you wouldn’t be quite as fun. But we don’t have to if you’re not interested.”

“I’d like that. A lot.” He slid his hand down Spy’s side until he found his hand, giving it a fond squeeze. “You never do what I’m expecting… What I’d ever expect.” He shook his head. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Spy felt like his cheeks were getting hot, but breezed over the compliments as if they were nothing. “I’m a Spy, after all, I can’t be predictable.” He squeezed Sniper’s hand in return.

“True. Wouldn’t want that. I wonder what kind of fish they have here—does it say?” He passed the brochure back to Spy, only a little self-consciously.

“Rainbow trout,” Spy read, “Ever caught any?”

Sniper shook his head. “I’ve fished in North America before, but mostly for salmon.”

“Do you want to go?”

“I  _ do _ …if you actually do too, if you didn’t just find this place because…” he couldn’t help laughing, “because you thought it’s what I wanted, or the only thing I’d want to do in the city.”

“I really do surprise you, don’t I?” he teased. “I really enjoyed hunting, growing up. I thought it’d be nice to try this.”

“Yeah, you do.” Sniper snorted. “Let me guess—on horseback?”

“Some of it, yes,” he nodded. “I also hunted in New Mexico, when visiting my father on his team. Do you want to go out, or should we spend our day here?”

Sniper stretched out on the bed. “Mmm…both of those do sound tempting. Let’s go out, though. Your dingo’s getting restless from being cooped up.”

“Poor dingo,” Spy stroked a hand over Sniper’s hair, “let’s take you out for a walk.”

 

***

 

After getting dressed and driving there in the car Spy had rented, they both took in the scenery. It was a pretty place, surprisingly green. The lake was small, but beautiful. There was lots of space just around the lake, let alone the archery and shooting ranges.

“Very pretty,” Sniper scoffed, “but it must take an awful lot of water to grow this much grass in the desert. Still…” he grinned at Spy, “I have missed grass. Makes me just want to just roll around in it.”

“I won’t complain if you do, but you might get some funny looks,” Spy teased. 

“Yeah, better not. Not out here in the open, at any rate. Maybe we’ll find a quiet spot by the lake.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Spy. “Did you bring fishing rods? I don’t exactly travel with them.”

“We rent them.” Spy nodded towards a small building. 

Inside, they were offered a deal if they wanted to go to all three attractions in one day. 

Spy shrugged, looking at Sniper. “There’s not much point.”

“Well, we’ll be doing two out of the three; might as well. Besides, who knows where the day’ll take us?” He winked at Spy. 

Spy just laughed and took the deal. 

 

***

 

They fished first. Sniper got a lot of amusement out of the fact that Spy called the pole of the fishing rod ‘the stick.’ He wasn’t sure if it was a mistranslation or unfamiliarity. 

Spy didn’t find it quite as funny.

“This was a good idea; it’s been a while since I fished,” Sniper murmured drowsily. He had his rod stuck in the sand between his legs where he’d feel the slightest twitch but he didn’t have to pay much attention. “Having fun?” He turned to grin at Spy.

“It’s peaceful,” he responded. If they hadn’t been in public, he would have been leaning on Sniper. “I’m still not entirely sure if this is luck or skill, or both, but I don’t seem to have either.” He grinned back. Sniper had already caught two fish, but Spy had caught none, hadn’t even gotten a nibble.

“Bored?” Sniper asked, playfully. “And you’re right—it’s both, and you have neither. Ah!” He felt the rod twitch again and sat up, instantly alert. Before long he’d reeled in another fish. “Want to help me with this one?” he offered with a grin, holding up the flailing fish. 

“I may not be a Sniper, but I can sit still for a pretty long time,” he retorted. Having seen Sniper kill and clean the other two fish, Spy tried his hand at it, under Sniper’s watchful eyes. Being skilled with a knife as he was, the dressing wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might be. 

“Not bad. We’ll make a fisherman out of you yet,” he teased, leaning over to give Spy’s temple a quick kiss. “Want to rinse your hands?” He gestured at the lake, holding his own fishy hands away from himself. 

Spy leaned away from the kiss, stiffly. “Careful,” he warned. It was easy to fall back into that easy affection they had, but they were in public. It was dangerous for them. He stepped closer to the lake, washing his hands in the clear water. 

Sniper’s eyes widened, and he shifted away from Spy so quickly he almost fell over. “Right. Shit. Sorry, I just…” He shook his head, following Spy to the lake and rinsing his own hands—some distance away from the other man. “D’you think there’s anywhere we can cook these here? I don’t think this is the kind of place that’d like us just lighting a fire anywhere we like.”

“I think there’s a place for that.” Spy indicated a sign nearby with a symbol of a picnic bench.

“Perfect. I think three’s enough.” Sniper picked up the fish, passing Spy the rented rods. 

They prepared the fish—‘they’ mostly being Sniper—above a small fire. Spy had to admit it was the best fish he’d ever eaten. He wasn’t sure if that was because it was so fresh, or if it was the way it was cooked, or if it was just part of the satisfaction of catching your own fish. Not that he had caught them.

“That was amazing,” he sighed, feeling quite full.

“Not bad,” Sniper agreed, wiping grease off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Surprised to hear you say that, though. I’m sure you’ve eaten the fanciest fish to be found.”

“Maybe. But that also may have been the best fish I’ve ever had.” He smiled at Sniper. 

“Really?” Sniper shook his head, throwing a fishbone at Spy. “Nah, you’re just having me on.”

“Well, I’d ask you if you think I’d lie about this, but I think my career choice might influence your answer,” Spy snorted. “But I meant it.”

“Mm-hmm.” Sniper leaned forward to kiss Spy again, remembered they were in public, and settled for resting his head on Spy’s shoulder for the briefest of moments. “Well…I’m glad you liked it. Want to try the archery?”

Spy nodded, wishing he could show Sniper the same affection Sniper was trying to show him.

 

***

 

The archery range was on the opposite side of the lake from the shooting range, which Sniper appreciated—it was much quieter. A man rented them a pair of bows and a quiver full of blunt-tipped arrows each, giving them a clearly memorized safety speech in a bored voice. 

It was a long field, with the grass neatly trimmed. The targets at the far end of the range were practically untouched—Sniper decided they must swap them out often, so the rich patrons of this place wouldn’t have to look at anyone else’s arrow holes. The whole thing set him on edge a little—they probably stocked the lake with fish, too. That would just make it all the more satisfying to literally poke holes in everything. They were the only two currently shooting.

“Have you shot a bow before?” This was a reasonably good place for a beginner, and the wind wasn’t too strong at the moment. 

“No,” Spy admitted, running his hands over the bow, trying to get a feel for it.

“Want me to show you?” he murmured, stepping close behind Spy, pressing his front to Spy’s back. “Nothing wrong with a bloke showing another bloke how to shoot, is there? All very manly.”

“Of course.” Spy grinned, pressing back into him, feeling a little bolder now that they were alone. “Teach me.”

“If I’d known you were planning this, I would’ve brought my guards… No matter. There are two—well, there are lots, obviously—important things to keep in mind with bows: never dry-fire them, without nocking an arrow; and, when you shoot, make sure the string doesn’t hit your forearm.” He laughed, holding up his arm and showing an old, pale scar. “Learned that one the long way. Ready to try?”

“Looks like a hard lesson.” Spy was tempted to run his fingertips over the scar, but he let it be for now. He let Sniper arrange his hand on the bow, show him how to grip it, and then help him line up an arrow.

“Well, I learned it. And to wear an arm guard. They might even have them here, but I don’t imagine you’ll be firing that many arrows, and you aren’t under any pressure. I’m going to back up now so I’m not in your way—you’ve got the arrow?”

“I’ve got it,” he assured him. He took a moment to go through everything Sniper had said in his mind, before drawing back and letting loose the arrow. It didn’t go nearly far enough. Spy chuckled. “Aim higher?” he guessed.

“A little,” Sniper agreed with a smile. He was glad Spy was being a good sport about it, and hoped he wouldn’t get frustrated before he managed to hit the target. “Breathe in just before you shoot, and release on the exhale,” he suggested, handing Spy another arrow.

It took him some time before he came close to the target, but he gave Sniper a bright smile when he hit a foot or so away from the it. 

Sniper couldn’t help grinning back at him. Spy’s happiness was obvious and infectious, and Sniper liked seeing him so pleased with himself. “Almost made it that time! Want to have another go?” He offered another arrow. Spy was adorable like this, and Sniper wished he could just sweep him up in his arms and kiss his smiling face. 

Spy hit the target after another few shots, though only the edge of it. He still looked pleased with himself. His fingers were getting sore and he stood out of the way for Sniper. 

“Sorry, I forgot how much it hurts at first.” He lifted Spy’s hands, wincing at the blisters already forming. “You’re probably not even feeling these yet, are you?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I will later. Let’s see you split an arrow,” he suggested, flexing his hands a few times to get rid of the stiffness. 

“Who do you think I am, Robin bloody Hood?” Sniper laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, give it here. I’ll do my best, but I make no promises.” He held out his hands for the bow. He did want to impress Spy, even if it meant showing off a bit.

Spy passed it over, along with the quiver, and sat next to Sniper on the grass.

Sniper fired a few practice shots at a second target, getting a feel for the bow. “It might not even work with these,” he warned, tapping the blunt tip of the arrow. “It might just…bounce off and look silly. But I’ll give it my best shot.” He nudged Spy with his foot. 

Spy rolled his eyes at his terrible pun, but smiled anyway. 

Sniper was a little embarrassed to notice his hands were shaking a little, like he was picking up a bow for the first time. He  _ wanted  _ to make the shot, wanted to impress Spy. 

He wanted his hat. 

He closed his eyes, centring himself. He let himself feel the slight breeze, the unnaturally even turf beneath his feet. He opened his eyes and nocked an arrow. Breathed in. Held it for a moment as he lined up the shot. Released while exhaling. Fought the urge to close his eyes and look away so he wouldn’t have to watch the arrow’s flight. 

As he’d predicted, the arrow hit the one Spy had hit the target with and simply bounced off, but to his surprise the arrow stuck in the target shattered, sending pieces flying everywhere.

Sniper whistled. “Who should I see about my name change?” he grinned. “Let’s get out of here before we get in trouble for doing that.”

Spy gave a soft cheer, then stood. “Maybe we should leave,” he agreed, with a laugh. “Mick, Shatterer of Arrows.”

“I like that.” Slinging both bows and the empty quivers on his shoulder, he brought them back to the attendant. They started walking around the lake, when Sniper heard the retort of a rifle. He turned to Spy. “I know it’s silly, but we did pay for everything, right? Want to try, or are your hands too sore?” He laughed. “I don’t think I can get away with doing trick shots here, not if there are other people shooting.”

“I’ll never say no to watching you shoot,” Spy admitted. It made him surprisingly proud, knowing his Sniper was such a fantastic shot, and likely one of the deadliest snipers in the world. “And my hands are just fine, I’ll let you take care of them when we get back to the hotel.”

“I’ll take care of you when we get back, don’t you worry,” Sniper growled, low and for Spy’s ears only. “Hopefully their guns aren’t complete crap,” he added, lightly. The bows, he could admit grudgingly, were decent quality, though the arrows had been rather flimsy and cheap, even for practice arrows. 

He collected a rifle and some rounds from another attendant, who looked even more lethargic than the first, and set himself and Spy up in a booth. He fired a few times, and after a few adjustments declared the gun decent. “Would you…like me to teach you how to shoot?” he offered. 

Though Spy  _ had _ been taught to shoot a rifle, he saw no reason to refuse an offer like that. “I’d like nothing better.”

Sniper stood behind Spy again, adjusting his shoulders and his stance, positioning his arms and hands. He let his hands rest on Spy’s, feeling the warmth. His hands were so small and thin, but Sniper knew firsthand just how deadly they were. “Ready to try a shot?” he murmured against Spy’s ear, when there was a break in the firing around them. 

“Yes,” he murmured back. Sniper held him gently, directing him subtly. Spy took a few slow breaths, pulling the trigger on the exhale. It hit the target, dead centre.

“I…guess I’m a better teacher than I thought?” Sniper laughed. “Want to go again, or do you want to end on a high note?”

Spy smirked at him, shrugged Sniper off him, and focused again. After a few moments, he hit another bullseye.

“Beginner’s luck?” Sniper was starting to get a little suspicious. “Again.”

“Mick,” Spy began apologetically, but still grinning. “I have shot a rifle before.”

“Mm-hmm. Pest!” Sniper couldn’t help laughing. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You’re a fantastic Sni—shot.” Spy realized part of the way through that word that it might attract some attention. “Why would I not take tips from you?”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Sniper shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Shoot again.” Sniper snugged right up against Spy again, like he was teaching him. 

Spy stilled himself once more before firing. This one was just slightly off centre.

“I like watching you do this,” Sniper growled in Spy’s ear, pressing his hips forward so Spy could feel just how much he liked it. 

“Mick!” Spy stifled a laugh. “Careful. If you like this so much we should go back to the hotel.” But he couldn’t resist taking another shot, liking the reaction he was getting from Sniper.

“Right.” Sniper couldn’t resist pulling Spy against himself, just for a moment, before releasing him. “Right. We’d better go before I have to take you right here, or in the car.”

A little ruffled, Spy stood and brushed himself off. They left the range, handed the rifle back to the attendant, and got back into the car. 


	17. Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of Sniper's feelings at the range
> 
> plus a random headcanon about the Classic Sniper

Their hands may have strayed a little once they were driving, and at one point, Spy veered a little dangerously when Sniper’s fingers just brushed his groin, but mostly they remained in control until they got up to their room.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” Sniper told him, locking the door behind him. He grinned, almost shyly. “Unless that’s not what you want, but I’m sure you’ll tell me, won’t you?” He pulled off his shirt and started fumbling with his belt. 

“I want you to fuck me like you wanted to right there on the range,” Spy demanded. “I don’t know what made you so horny about it, but I love it.”

“Does it matter?” Sniper growled, finally getting his belt loose. He undid his trousers and stepped out of them, leaving himself naked and proud. He strode to the bed, patting it invitingly. He knocked the lube off the bedside table in his haste, scrambling to retrieve it. He poured a generous handful into his palm, stroking it a few times to warm it up before slathering it on his cock. “Want you so bad.”

Spy stripped, leaving his clothes strewn across the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How do you want me?” he asked, stroking himself teasingly.

Fuck, Sniper liked seeing Spy so eager to get fucked that he left his clothes all over the place. “On all fours.” He didn’t normally care much about position, or let Spy dictate it, but right now he knew exactly how he wanted his Spy. His Laurent. 

Rolling over, Spy offered up his ass, thighs spread. “Fuck me, Mick,” he begged.

“Plan on it.” Sniper set a hand on each of Spy’s hips, thumbs nearly meeting in the middle—fuck, Spy was thin! He pulled Spy back, deliberately slow, teasing them both, until his cock was just nudging against Spy’s surprisingly plush ass. Regretfully, he took one hand off Spy, using it to guide his cock into position. “Ready?”

“God, yes, I want you in me so bad,” he pleaded, his cock twitching against his thigh. He didn’t want to touch himself yet, sure that if he did, he wouldn’t last until Sniper was ready to finish. His body trembled as Sniper pressed the head of his cock into him and he let out a soft cry. 

“Not hurting?” Sniper asked, forcing himself to pause. “I’m a little eager, sorry.”

“It’s good,” Spy assured him, rocking back on the cock impaling him, trying to tempt Sniper into thrusting deeper. They didn’t often do sex without preparation, but Spy had proven before that he could take it, and he didn’t want Sniper to go easy on him now.

“Good.” Sniper allowed Spy to push back at his own pace, until he was fully seated. “God, fuck, you feel good!”

Spy’s moans and demands quickly became wordless whimpers and whines as Sniper’s cock bottomed out in him before dragging slowly out of him again. At this point, he didn’t even need to tell Sniper what to do; Sniper was so used to taking Spy’s orders that he knew exactly how he liked it, exactly how to please him. Soon enough his fingers were clutching the bed sheets and he was writhing and shuddering with every thrust. He felt heat rolling through his body as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. Still, he refused to stroke himself. 

“Loved watching you shoot,” Sniper growled. “Loved holding you. Love fucking you, god!” He hardly had to do anything; Spy was providing ample motion for both of them, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to fuck Spy as hard and fast as he could. He groaned, hoping Spy would start jerking off so he’d know he could finish soon. 

Spy’s cries got louder, and soon the world around him seemed to fade out, leaving only Sniper, the slap of his hips against his ass, the bright sparks of pleasure inside him and his own breaths. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, he took his already dripping cock in hand and began to stroke himself, his pace as quick as Sniper’s.

Not bothering to conceal his sigh of relief, Sniper grabbed Spy’s hips again, fucking him even harder and faster as they approached the edge together. 

As their speed increased, Spy buried his face against his elbow, biting into his lip. He could feel Sniper’s cock throbbing in him, hot and hard and perfect. Spy gave a choked gasp and came across the sheets.

“Spy, I’m—!” Sniper gasped, throwing himself into Spy as deep as he could press. His cries turned into wordless moans as he came fully sheathed in his lover. The moment stretched, seeming to last forever, an eternity of pleasure. Finally, spent, he fell forward, resting his forehead on Spy’s sweaty back.  _ “Fuck,”  _ he said, with feeling.

Spy gave a soft, affirmative sound, before falling flat onto the bed under Sniper’s weight. “Mff,” he protested.

“Sorry, sorry!” Sniper laughed. Spy had already pulled himself free, so Sniper grabbed a couple of tissues from the box by the bed and gave himself a quick wipe before passing one to Spy. 

Spy cleaned himself up, rolling onto his back, still panting hard. “Oh,” he breathed. “Mick, that was amazing. I’m taking you to the range every day,” he laughed.

“I think we might both die if we did that every day,” Sniper gasped, grinning, “but I have to agree with you.”

He laughed, pressing into Sniper’s side to be held. “What is it about me being a good shot that made you horny?”

“I don’t know!” He gathered Spy against him, raising his head a little to kiss Spy on the lips and hopefully at least pause the conversation. 

“Mmm,” Spy hummed into the kiss, melting into Sniper. When they pulled away he just smiled. “Well, whatever it was about, I’m glad it happened. And glad that I took a few lessons from a sniper.”

“Besides me?” Sniper suspected Spy knew exactly why he’d done that, but then he usually assumed Spy saw right through him. 

“I told you I met my father’s old team,” he said, looking at Sniper with a little smirk. “I picked up a few things from most of them,” he agreed. “I liked the Sniper, he was a good teacher as long as you were patient and quiet.”

“What’s he like?” 

Spy rested his head on his hands, on top of Sniper’s chest. “He rarely spoke, and when he did it was usually in Finnish. I don’t think he much liked people, or talking.” Spy wrapped Sniper up in his arms, glad to be back in the privacy of their room so they could be affectionate again, so they could touch each other as casually and intimately as they liked. “You’ve worn me out and it’s only dinner time.”

“Same,” Sniper agreed, happily snuggling against his lover.

“Nap first, then dinner?” Spy suggested.

“That sounds heavenly,” Sniper groaned. “You probably live like this all the time, don’t you? I’ve never been so indulgent in my life,” he laughed. “By the end of the week, you’ll have a fat, lazy dingo who’s all too happy to wear a tutu.”

“Mmm, my plan is working perfectly.” Spy grinned. 

Sniper shook his head fondly, kissing Spy again.

They slept until dinner.


	18. Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy brought some rope
> 
> I uploaded a second chapter again, since the first one was only a couple pages and this one isn't that long either

The two of them slept late the next morning, having had another round of sex before bed. Spy had had another nightmare during the night, but upon accidentally waking Sniper he was quickly soothed. They woke up entangled, Spy’s head tucked under Sniper’s chin.

Spy gave a low groan as he woke, grinding a little against Sniper’s thigh.

“’Morning,” Sniper grinned at his lover. “ _Some_ one’s up early.” He slid his leg up and down a little, pointedly brushing Spy’s erection.

“Mhm,” he purred, arching up to nibble at Sniper’s jawline. “You awake enough for some fun?”

“I think I could be…up…for that,” Sniper agreed, rutting against Spy’s leg a little.

“Good!” Spy sat up, pushing Sniper back into the bed with a wicked grin and hopping off the bed to dig through his bag.

“Oi!” Sniper laughed, reaching out and trying to grab Spy as he fled. “Where’re you going? I thought we were going to fuck!”

“And we are!” Spy assured him, taking two neat loops of rope out of his bag. One loop was green and the other was a dark brown. “I’m going to tie you up and you’re going to see what real rope, meant for bondage, feels like.” He sat back down on the bed, grabbing Sniper’s arms and pressing them up against the pillows so his wrists rested on the headboard. He began an intricate tie starting from Sniper’s upper arms going up to his wrists and finally attaching to the headboard.

“Have I told you you’re ridiculous lately?” Sniper told him adoringly. He allowed Spy to position him and start tying him. Spy hadn’t been at his task long before Sniper started making a funny face.

“I am not. And what’s with that expression?” Spy laughed.

“…I hate to admit you’re right,” Sniper began, reluctantly.

“Hah!” Spy smirked. “Get used to it, Mick.” He stroked an adoring hand over Sniper’s chest, his smile softening a little. He’d specifically gotten new rope to suit Sniper. His old rope, which was purple, didn’t seem quite right for him. Now that Sniper’s arms were bound, he shuffled down the bed to wrap up his legs in a similar fashion, finally tying the ends to the bedposts. Now that Sniper was tied up like a present, Spy bent over him, biting at his neck and shoulders mercilessly, leaving hickeys across his tan skin.

“It’s…very soft,” he admitted, grudgingly. “You look very pleased with yourself,” he grumbled playfully, watching Spy move to and fro like a kinky spider. He settled in for whatever Spy had in mind—not that he had a choice. “Ah!” he cried out, tipping his head back with pleasure as Spy struck. He wished he hadn’t thought of spiders a moment ago, and he tried very hard not to imagine Spy filling him with venom that would liquefy his insides.

“I am,” he murmured, kissing one of the red marks he’d left on Sniper. He grabbed the lube from the bedside table and began to work himself open, perhaps a little too quickly. As soon as he deemed himself ready, or ready enough, he slicked Sniper’s cock, giving him a few strokes. He straddled him and guided his lover’s cock into himself. “That’s it,” he crooned.

“God, Spy…!” Watching his lover prepare and being utterly helpless to do anything but watch was driving Sniper wild. He twitched and wiggled as much as Spy’s excellent ropework allowed—which wasn’t very much. Finally he lay still, panting, until Spy finally relented and started lowering himself on his cock. “Yes,” he said, almost a whisper, “yes, Spy, please… Need it. Need you.”

Having Sniper helpless and squirming under him was quite an aphrodisiac. Spy’s cock twitched as he fully seated himself on Sniper, letting his cock open him wide. “Oh fuck,” Spy began to work himself up and down on Sniper, groaning every time he was fully sheathed again.

Sniper laughed, a little wildly, a little helplessly. “God, the things you do, the things you come up with in that twisted little mind of yours! You’re going to kill me one of these days, and I’ll go with a smile on my face and thanking you.”

Spy couldn’t help but grin at Sniper’s praises. “You feel so good,” he murmured, “You fit so perfectly in me.” His words were interrupted by little moans and gasps. “I love this, I love how you feel.” He began to slow down, letting Sniper’s cock nearly pop out of him every time he pulled back, crying out softly every time the head of his cock opened him up again, and whining each time he was fully sheathed.

“Fuck, me too!” Sniper shook his head, trying to thrust up into Spy. He could manage a little, arching and curving between the ropes holding his hands and feet. “Don’t slow down!” he yelped, “that’s the _opposite_ of what you should be doing!”

“You want to fuck me just the way I want to be fucked, don’t you?” Spy asked, digging his fingernails into Sniper’s sides, his legs tight around his body. “You want to please me, don’t you?”

“Yes, dammit!” Sniper laughed, still thrusting his hips as much as he could. “But you’re also _evil!”_

Spy ground down against Sniper’s hips to get his cock as deep as possible. “Mick, Mick,” he panted. The longer they went the more Spy talked, begging for more, praising Sniper, praising his cock, cursing and crying between pleasure and the pain of those quick teasing moments of nothing. Again, his languages switched naturally through English, French, and Spanish.

“Yeah, I’m here for you,” Sniper assured him, forcing himself to lie still and quiet the way Spy wanted him—and fighting the ropes was exhausting. He stared up at Spy with something like awe, swept along by the flow of him. “God, Spy, you make me so hot, get me so hard…please, soon, please!” he begged.

Soon enough Spy’s begging and pleading turned to open affection, varying wildly between languages. “ _I love this, I love what you do to me, I love you in me, I love it, I need it, I love you_!”

Sniper could barely keep up with Spy as he flowed and shifted through three tongues. Even though he understood them all, his comprehension wasn’t at its best when he was tied to a bed and he felt like he was about to burst. Spy’s last words gave him pause, though. _I love you_? Sniper’s face flushed, and he almost opened his mouth to—no. It was just the heat of the moment. He couldn’t read anything more into the words than that. Couldn’t. Or he’d drive himself mad. He would just enjoy this for what it was—only the best sex of his life!—and not mistake it for something more than it was, than it could be.

Spy was too close to his peak to think twice about his words. They’d felt natural coming out, they’d felt right, honest. But now he was too preoccupied with everything else to think about that. “Cum in me,” he begged, bouncing on Sniper’s cock, stroking himself as his climax approached. “I need to feel you cum in me.”

It didn’t take anything more than that. He obeyed Spy’s order within seconds, crying out and gasping as he came over and over, buried deep in Spy, held fast by the ropes.

Spy came as soon as he felt Sniper throb in him, arching his back and resting his hands against Sniper’s thighs behind himself, not wanting to tip over completely. “Oh fuck, oh Mick!” His head swam for a moment with the strength of his orgasm, and he just sat there, still filled with Sniper’s cock and cum, with a satisfied smile.

“Well, don’t you look like the cat who got the cream?” Sniper teased lightly, once he could speak again.

“I am,” he panted, trying to get off of Sniper gracefully. Once Sniper’s cock slid out of him, Spy teetered and finally fell to the bed beside Sniper, cum leaking out of him onto the sheets.

Sniper managed not to snort at the look on Spy’s face, barely. He wanted to pull Spy against him, but he was still bound, so he had to wait for Spy to move. “C’mere so I can kiss you,” he murmured.

Spy wriggled over to throw a leg over Sniper’s middle and put his arm over his chest, kissing him over and over. He ignored the cum that was smearing between his leg and Sniper’s abdomen.

“Hi.” Sniper grinned up at him.

“Hi,” Spy repeated, his voice dreamy. “That was good, hm?” His words suddenly caught up with him, all the things he’d said in the throes of pleasure. Some of them he’d happily repeat in English for Sniper, but ‘I love you’? That was too far. Spy wasn’t entirely sure he meant it yet, either. It was just one of those things that you say during sex. It had just come out. It didn’t mean anything. It was better that Sniper hadn’t understood.

 _“So_ good,” Sniper confirmed. “I came so hard I saw spots for a moment. _Fuck,_ Spy, what you do to me!” he laughed. “It’s horrible of you to make me wait…but I always come harder—the _hardest—_ when you do!”

“Hah, make you wait. I haven’t even done that yet,” Spy threatened, grinning. “How about I show you what I mean tonight? If you’re not too worn out.”

“Oh _god!”_ Sniper laughed. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you? You just got fed up with trying it on the battlefield, hmm? Decided to try another way?”

“Hah, you’ll love it. You’ll beg me to do it again.” Spy nibbled around the lobe of Sniper’s ear. “And if you’re very good, maybe I’ll let you return the favour, mm?”

“It would help if I knew what it was…” Sniper shivered, turning his head to give Spy better access to his ear.

“You’ll find out tonight.”

“Mm-hmm. Pest.” He laughed again. “Well, not like there’s much I can do to stop you.” He wiggled, demonstrating how little he could move.

“I think I should leave you there all day,” Spy grinned. “Feed you lunch, keep you entertained… maybe keep myself even more entertained,” he breathed softly over Sniper’s ear, licking just at the edge of it.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that,” Sniper replied, blushing a little. His eyes fluttered shut and goosebumps raised on the back of his neck.

“Oh, good,” Spy said innocently. “But for now, I’m just going to lay here for a little.” Riding Sniper was a surprisingly athletic activity.

“You’ll at least cuddle up against me, I hope?” Sniper rolled his eyes playfully.

“Of course,” he pressed a kiss to Sniper’s shoulder, “that’s what you’re here for.”

“Oh, is that what?” Sniper laughed. “Well, good to know what I’m here for. You’re ridiculous, and I’d kiss you if I could.” He puckered his lips, exaggerating the expression.

Spy leaned close enough to kiss him properly.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Sniper yawned once Spy broke the kiss, eyes beginning to drift shut.

Spy watched Sniper doze off, stifling his own yawns. He fought sleep for a while, but didn’t want to extricate himself from Sniper. In the end, sleep won and he ended up snoring softly against Sniper’s chest.

 


	19. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy shares
> 
> sorry if the formatting is off, our computer died so I’m posting this on my phone :/

Over their last few days, they began to take more pictures. Some during sex, but most just of them, or each other. Spy took one of Sniper sleeping and snuck it into his cigarette case, facing the wrong way so no one else could see it. It felt bold, to carry a piece of their relationship with him into battle. 

Soon enough they were headed back, and they sobered a little. Their vacation had been great, but now they were going back to what was normalcy for them. Enemies all week, lovers on the weekend. It was going to be a hard adjustment.

Spy had arranged it so they took different trains back to the bases. The two bases shared a train station, and several of each team would be arriving throughout the weekend before furlough ended, but Spy hadn’t wanted them on the same train together, not trusting that they’d be able to stay professional on a long ride with nothing to do. He’d be waiting for the next train. 

Before they separated, they couldn’t resist a quick fuck in the train station bathroom. After that, Sniper was off and Spy waited for the next train.

***

They had run-ins all week, but Friday’s battle was something else.

Sniper wasn’t sure how it had happened. Couldn’t have told anyone the sequence of events if they’d asked, but somehow he’d ended up holding Spy’s knife. He saw Spy’s eyes—not Laurent, not now—widen behind his mask, he started reaching for his pistol. Without thinking, operating purely on instinct, Sniper gave a wild yell and stabbed at his enemy. The knife sunk into the meat of Spy’s shoulder, striking bone and jarring Sniper’s hand hard enough that he almost dropped the knife. He had a horrified moment to think ‘Oh shit’ and ‘Sorry!’ simultaneously, while he tried pulling the knife out or breaking away from Spy enough to reach his kukri. 

Spy wrenched away with a scream, pulling back and away, kicking Sniper down. He ripped the knife out of his own shoulder and thrust it into Sniper’s neck. Blood sprayed from the wound, spattering Spy. The pain of the wound in his shoulder was only just starting to register after he’d pulled it out and he was bleeding profusely. As soon as Sniper’s body disappeared into respawn, Spy made his way down from the nest to go to the nearest BLU dispenser.

***

Later that evening, Spy came to Sniper’s camper. He let himself in as per usual.  

Sniper’s face lit up when he heard the camper door open. He stood up from where he’d been having a nap, hat over his eyes, holding out his arms for his lover. “I’m so glad it’s finally Friday. Been looking forward to this all week.”

“Mm, me too.” Spy leaned into him. “Before we get settled, I-” he sighed. “Do you have a shovel?”

“…yes?” Sniper shifted away from him, just a little. “Does…this have something to do with the knife thing earlier?”

Spy felt him move away and gave him a reassuring smile. “It does, but not in the way you might be thinking.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. I keep it on the roof.” He brushed past Spy, out the door, and to the back of his camper. It rocked a little as he climbed the ladder at the back, crossed the roof, and came back down. “I hope you don’t need it in there,” he called.

Spy stepped out, shaking his head. He took out his knife and opened it, using both hands as though he couldn’t flip it open. The sharp edge had been rolled over so it couldn’t be used again.

“You’re making me a little nervous, here,” Sniper said, offering the shovel—or holding it between them. 

With a sigh, Spy traded Sniper, the knife for the shovel. He stepped a few feet away from the camper and dug a small hole.

Sniper watched, silent. He felt like he was taking part in some sort of ceremony, but he was clueless about what was going on. 

Spy traded him again, handing him back the shovel and taking the knife. He tossed it in the small hole and nudged the dirt back in the hole with the side of his shoe. He saw Sniper’s expression and made a face. “It’s just a silly superstition.”

Sniper shrugged. “I don’t think there are many people in our line of business—not ones who’ve survived this long—who don’t have a superstition or two.” He slowly, tentatively reached out to take Spy’s hand. “I’m glad I could be here. I’m glad you  _ wanted  _ me here. I don’t think it’s silly at all.” He frowned for a moment. “Is this because I stabbed you with it?”

Squeezing Sniper’s hand, Spy nodded. “I’ve had bad luck with knives that’ve hurt me. I won’t keep them anymore, and I don’t want them in anyone else’s hands either. I’m glad you don’t think it’s ridiculous.”

“’Course not. You’re hardly the first person I’ve met who had that problem.” He raised an eyebrow at Spy. “Do you just keep a cache of knives in case this happens?”

He smirked. “As though you don’t keep an extra weapon or two?”

“Alright, yeah, ’course I do. But I feel like you just have a bunch of identical ones.”

“They’re not identical! That one was engraved.”

Sniper tried to suppress his laughter, shaking his head at Spy. “Are you going to get the new one engraved?” He was very tempted to dig the old knife up after Spy left and see what was engraved on it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Spy would somehow know, and he knew Spy intended for it to stay buried. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Spy said, but he was smiling as he said it. “And maybe. Maybe I’ll get it engraved with a dingo.”

“I just like when I get something right about you.” He elbowed Spy’s side lightly. “And then stab me with it? Rude.”

“I suppose that would be a little rude.” Spy grinned, leaning into Sniper. “Let’s get inside. I brought something you ought to like more.”

“More than reminders of being stabbed? Shouldn’t be too difficult,” he laughed. 

“Good.” Spy closed the camper door behind them, pulling out a fat envelope and handing it to Sniper.

“…is…this a bribe?” Sniper frowned. “I take it back. Apparently it  _ is  _ difficult.”

“ _ Dios mio _ , just open it!”

“Alright, alright!” Using very exaggerated motions, Sniper flipped open the top of the envelope; it wasn’t sealed. Inside were photographs, in different sizes and quality. Many of them were in black and white. “These had better not all be of my arse.” He chose one, more or less at random. It showed a dark-haired boy, maybe eleven or twelve—Sniper wasn’t good at telling how old kids were—who managed to simultaneously look serious and mischievous. Standing beside him, with one hand on his shoulder, was a tall, thin man. On the boy’s other side, with her arm around both the men, was a woman with hair as dark and wavy as the boy’s, with the same impish smile. Sniper’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be… He glanced at Spy for confirmation—or denial. He wanted to see the look on Spy’s face, so he could hopefully tell whether these were  _ actual  _ pictures of Spy, or random ones he’d chosen to represent himself. Sniper wasn’t sure why Spy would bother showing him any pictures at all, if he didn’t want to show real ones, but…well, he was nowhere near clever enough to keep up with all of Spy’s plots and schemes. 

Spy was watching Sniper with an almost shy expression. It seemed like he’d completely surprised Sniper. “It seemed only fair, I’ve seen so many pictures of you,” he explained.

“Not that I showed them to you,” Sniper said, with a wry grin. He gave Spy a quick squeeze around the middle before sitting at his little dining table, spreading the pictures out across the surface. Some of them had writing on them—which he couldn’t read, of course—but most of the pictures were fairly self-explanatory: Spy, maybe age eight or nine, wearing what Sniper thought was a school uniform in front of a large building. Spy—Laurent—on a big, bay horse, leaning forward as though whispering in the horse’s ear. Pictures of Spy and his parents in all sorts of poses and locations. Later, just Spy and his father. “You look…happy.” He gave Spy a soft smile. “These aren’t in any kind of order, though!” he laughed. 

Spy sat at the little table across from Sniper. “I should probably put them in a book,” he sighed. “It was just easier to travel with them like that.” 

“I would’ve expected more organization from you,” Sniper smirked, reaching out to stroke Spy’s hand. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I…this means a lot to me. Especially because you didn’t have to do this.” He laughed, pinching Spy’s forearm lightly. “Not like I was going to rummage through your things and find them if you didn’t show them to me first, mmm?”

“I have a feeling you would have shown me eventually,” Spy pinched him back. “But no, there was no way for you to rummage through my things.” He squeezed Sniper’s hand affectionately. “So I’ll bring them to you for rummaging.”

“Very sweet of you,” Sniper said, playfully sarcastic to cover up his genuine emotion. “Thanks.” He gave Spy a wry grin. “Yeah, I probably would’ve. And I’d be happy to look at them  _ with you,  _ if you have any questions.” He thought for a moment. “I’m sure there’s  _ some  _ way I  _ could  _ rummage through them—but I wouldn’t!” he quickly assured Spy. 

“I wouldn’t mind looking through them with you. Those that I haven’t looked through with you around,” he smiled. 

“I’d like that.” Sniper pulled a picture out of the array, whistling appreciatively. “You actually brushed your own horse, at least once!” he teased. 

“Are you starting to pick up on the fact that I’m not as fancy as my Spy persona?” he teased. “I also picked her hooves.”

Sniper stood up and circled around to Spy, wrapping his arms around his lover’s neck, draping his head on top of Spy’s. “You’re splendid.”

“I can be,” he purred, kissing Sniper’s shoulder. 

“Always,” Sniper insisted, kissing the top of Spy’s head. “It’s…funny you brought these to me now. I actually have a surprise for you, too.”

“Oh?” Spy sounded pleased. “What is it?”

“Wait here.” He gave Spy a quick kiss on the cheek, then rummaged in one of the drawers under his bed. “I was— _ am _ —hoping you wouldn’t find this before it was ready.” He pulled out an old, travel-worn photo album and set it in front of Spy, carefully clearing all of Spy’s pictures out of the way first. 

Spy tucked his photos back in the envelope, flipping through the photo book slowly. He couldn’t help his small smile. “…I love it,” he murmured. It was all the photos they’d taken over furlough. Them together in bed, them kissing, a few pictures of a very debauched Sniper. 

He wasn’t just in one of Sniper’s books, he had his very own book.

Sniper closed his eyes in relief. He’d been so happy and excited putting the book together, but as soon as he brought it out he started having second thoughts. Maybe he should’ve just put them in one of his other books, with other lovers. Maybe making Spy his own book was too much. Now, he was glad he’d done it again. 

“I realized I had blank pages in a bunch of my other albums, so I just…shuffled things around a bit. It wasn’t much,” he assured Spy, blushing a little. 

Spy leaned closer to kiss Sniper, gratefully. There was an ‘I love you’ trying to bubble up, but he kept it in. He wasn’t sure he wanted to say that, not just now, but maybe ever. He’d said it before, to people he was dating, people he’d loved, but not since he was a young man. Well, ignoring the time he’d said it to Sniper during sex, but that hardly counted. Things were more complicated here, and he wasn’t sure either of them wanted to be tied to each other that way.

Though he wasn’t sure he’d ever say it, he did love Sniper.

Sniper kissed him back, his blush deepening, spreading to the tips of his ears. 

The reddening of Sniper’s face was surprisingly adorable and Spy smiled into the kiss, pulling away just a tiny bit to press their foreheads together. Those damn words kept trying to break free and he gave a soft sigh. 

Sniper sighed back, inhaling Spy’s breath, feeling them breathe together. He pulled away after a moment when it became too much. “So…” he laughed, awkwardly, “we’ll just have to take more pictures. To fill it. If...if you want.”

“Of course. Can’t start a book and then not finish it, right?” he grinned. 

Sniper raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What?”

“I wouldn’t know, would I?”

“I meant these kinds of books.”

“Mm-hmm. Pest.” He leaned down to kiss Spy again.

“Brat,” he retorted before submitting to the kiss, wrapping an arm around Sniper’s neck. 


	20. Watched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone's sneaking about
> 
> *edit*  
> also omg I can't believe I got the team colours wrong, I feel so silly

Sunday came all too soon, with the threat of Monday morning looming over both of them, making it more difficult to relax and enjoy each other’s company. They knew Spy would have to leave soon; it was extremely impractical for him to spend Sunday night with Sniper, as it would force him to scamper back to his own base in order to be on time for battle. Sniper had already begun mentally distancing himself, seeing the man as _Spy,_ his enemy, rather than _Laurent,_ his lover.

“Wish you didn’t have to go,” he sighed, tangled in a sticky heap with Spy, long, sweaty limbs entwined. “I’m a selfish dingo.”

“Well, you’re _my_ selfish dingo,” Spy murmured, stifling a yawn. “I actually had an idea for Monday, if you’re so inclined.”

“Did you?” Sniper grinned. “Clever thing.” He kissed Spy’s shoulder and collarbone.

Spy couldn’t resist preening a little under the kisses. “Mm, yes I am,” he grinned. He rolled just enough to grab the coil of rope that had been left by the side of the bed.

“I must not be doing my job properly if you’re up for that,” Sniper laughed. “Haven’t worn you out completely!”

“No, remember, this is for Monday,” Spy chuckled. “Sit up.”

“I’m not sure what you’re planning…” Sniper said, a little suspiciously, but he followed Spy’s direction.

Spy found the centre of the rope and began wrapping it around Sniper’s chest, over and under, then turned it into a harness by attaching a rope between the two over his shoulders. The last bit of the rope he coiled around the back and tied off. “There. I bet you could wear that under your shirt and vest and no one would notice…?”

“Spy…!” Sniper laughed, looking scandalized. “You’re a wicked creature, do you know that?” He gave a full-body shiver. “I like it,” he murmured, low and husky.

“Somehow I thought you might.” Spy tugged on the back of the harness gently. “You can take it off after Monday’s battle, I doubt you’ll want to wear it more than a night and a day.” He kissed Sniper’s shoulder.

“I love—this.” Ducking his head, Sniper tugged at the ropes crossing his shoulder. “Thanks,” he added, very softly.

Spy wondered if he’d imagined the pause between ‘love’ and ‘this.’ He smiled. “Of course, I love making you do wicked things.”

“I might’ve noticed something along those lines,” Sniper teased. “You’d better not take advantage,” he warned, shaking a playfully scolding finger at Spy.

“I’ve been nothing but professional so far! How dare you,” he laughed. “You’re a brat.”

“You have,” Sniper conceded. “But I also haven’t been tied up around you in battle, pest!” He tilted his head to the side. “Well, except that one time. Sort of. But you didn’t know about that until I showed you.” He leaned forward to kiss Spy’s forehead.

Spy hummed happily as he was kissed, pulling Sniper down for a real kiss.

They kept themselves busy until Spy had to leave.

 

***  


Waiting for battle to begin was torment. Once he could retreat to his nest, Sniper would be left more or less alone—except for the enemy Spy, of course. But until then, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his teammates knew what he had under his clothes. Every time one of them looked at him, or smiled at him, he’d immediately tense up and feel his face grow hot yet again. It was probably making them much more suspicious, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally put his hands in his pockets so he’d stop stroking the rope through his shirt. It was loose enough on him to hide the rope, and he knew that. So did Spy, otherwise he wouldn’t have done it. Sniper was beginning to wish he’d said no. He liked having this secret, knowing, every time he moved, that he belonged to Spy, but he’d always been terrible at acting natural when he was off-balance.

  
The RED Spy had been watching Sniper blush and fidget for a few minutes now. He was fidgeting with his shirt, as though he had something on underneath, perhaps. Spy put a hand on Sniper’s shoulder, patting him as he passed, casually. It was hard to tell through the vest as well as his shirt, but it felt like there was something there. What could it be?

  
Sniper shot his Spy a horrified look, quickly covering his mouth and pretending to cough to disguise his expression. Luckily he was already wearing his sunglasses, so his eyes were covered. His heart raced. He knows. He had to tell the other Spy—or would trying to contact him during the week only make it worse? What had Laurent been thinking? He wasn’t capable of doing this without broadcasting it to the world, never mind another Spy!

  
Spy caught a glimpse of Sniper’s horror, and added that to the puzzle. If only he could have an opportunity to feel Sniper again. He had a suspicion as to what was under Sniper’s shirt. It felt like rope. The man was clearly kinky; he came back from weekends with hickeys, even though he never seemed to leave his camper.  
He considered. Someone would have to sneak into Sniper’s camper. It wasn’t one of the team, certainly, Spy knew they didn’t leave the base often, and when they did it was to go get drunk in town, not fuck their Sniper. Clearly it was someone sneaky. Someone nearby. Someone on the other team. And to not have been seen? It was most certainly their Spy.

  
It was a relief for Sniper to be able to leave the rest of his team and escape to his nest. His first few shots were clumsy and off, alerting enemies to his position rather than making neat, clean kills; he had to move several times during the morning. Eventually his love of his work and the familiar pattern of battle eased his anxiety. He forgot about the rope entirely for hours at a time.

  
It was a while before Spy finally pinpointed where Sniper was. He’d been moving around so much that Spy had twice gone up to a nest he’d just vacated. He crept in through the side window and as soon as his feet were on the ground he flicked his knife open, lunging forwards, aiming at Sniper’s neck.

  
“Fuck!” Sniper had gotten a little too involved in watching through his scope, forgetting to pay attention to his immediate surroundings. Not for the first time, he wished there was a Spotter class—it would make his job much more efficient. He barely managed to swing the butt of his rifle down and around to block the blow. He pushed forward with the gun, trying to knock Spy off balance, get some distance between his torso and that deadly blade.

  
Spy was impressed that Sniper had managed to avoid the strike at all. He was knocked back slightly, but he kept his balance. Grinning, he flipped the blade again, no longer holding it ready for a downward stab, but up and ready to jab. He waited to see how Sniper would move.

  
Sniper ducked under the knife, dropping the rifle right in front of Spy’s feet—he didn’t want to drop it too far from the floor, but he also wanted his hands free for his kukri. The space was too small to swing his rifle much, and he didn’t like using it for hand-to-hand combat, anyway. He scuttled backwards on all fours, awkwardly.  
Taking advantage of Sniper’s awkward position, Spy kicked him, the pointy toe of his shoe connecting right under Sniper’s chin.

  
“Fuck!” Sniper shouted again. The pain forced his leg straight, knocking him on his ass and overextending his knee a little. He caught himself with his hands behind himself, wincing as he felt splinters bite into his palms from the shitty floor. He was nearly prone, almost helpless. What a pointless way to die. If he could just roll to his kukri… Panting slightly, he attempted it, knowing how predictable it was even as he moved. He suspected Spy knew exactly what he was about to try, but it was his best chance of at least regaining a little space. And he didn’t want to die on the floor, empty-handed.

  
He managed to get his hand on the kukri, but that was the last thing he did. Spy forced his knife between Sniper’s third and fourth ribs, wiped his knife clean, and left the nest as Sniper’s body faded into respawn.

  
Sniper opened his eyes in his new body. He hadn’t warned Spy that he thought his Spy…the Spy on his team…was onto him. He felt crabby and irritable for the rest of the battle. He was tempted to take out his frustration by delivering body rather than headshots, but the rest of his team didn’t deserve to suffer because of his distress. And he was a professional.

A professional who was wearing bondage his enemy had given him.

Shit.

 

***

 

Though Sniper only wore the bondage on Monday, the paranoia stayed with him all week. They didn’t have a chance to talk until Friday night, when Spy arrived for their usual weekend time together.

  
He stepped into the camper with a smile, uncloaking as soon as the door was closed. “ _Mon beau_ ,” he greeted Sniper. “How was Monday?” he teased.

  
Sniper startled when the door opened suddenly, apparently on its own. “Y’know, I think it defeats the purpose of cloaking if you open the door. We should work out some kinda signal so I can open it for you. And my heart can’t take it.” He made a face, gathering Spy into his arms with a groan. “Awful, and not just because of you.” He frowned, pulling away from Spy just enough so they could see each other’s faces. “I mean, I liked it, don’t get me wrong, I’m just not good at acting…well, like I’m not tied up under my clothes.” Now that he finally had a chance to tell Spy his suspicions, he found himself reluctant to bring it up and admit his failing.

  
Spy looked upset, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. We should keep to the weekends like we originally said we would.” It was hardly professional, and Spy knew how important that was to Sniper.

  
“I…I liked it.” Sniper blushed, pulling Spy close again with a wry laugh. “I liked feeling it against my skin, knowing only you and me knew about it. Only…” he sighed, “I’m afraid it’s not just me and you. I’m probably just being paranoid,” he assured Spy, but he didn’t look convinced by his own words.

  
“Who do you think knows?” Spy frowned.

  
“My—the…other Spy…” he mumbled, barely audible.

  
“Shit,” Spy sighed. “I’ll see what I can do about him. Until then, let’s try not to worry.”

  
“I’m so sorry,” Sniper groaned. “It’s all my fault.”

  
“It’s fine, it was my idea. Don’t blame yourself.” Spy pressed a kiss to Sniper’s jaw.

  
Sniper relaxed into his kiss, pulling Spy even closer. “You’re right. We don’t know anything for sure, and there’s no point worrying about something that might not even happen. It’s his job to be suspicious, right? But you’re careful. I’ll see if I can convince him I tied myself up? Maybe? Or is that a stupid idea? Besides…” Sniper grinned shyly. “I don’t want to waste our time together thinking about him.”

  
If the RED Spy hadn’t been cloaked, he would’ve stomped his foot. No time spent thinking about him was ever wasted! He had all the proof he needed that his Sniper was involved with the enemy Spy, but…there was no harm in staying a little longer, listening in and finding out exactly what they were up to. He slowly, silently, removed a cigarette from his case.

  
Spy wrapped an arm around Sniper’s neck and pulled him down into a deeper kiss. He backed him up into the bed and knocked him down onto it, straddling Sniper’s thighs with a smirk.

  
“You look awfully pleased with yourself.” Sniper couldn’t help grinning back up at him, lightly stroking Spy’s sides.

  
“I am,” he agreed, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the floor, along with his mask. He unbuttoned Sniper’s, leaving it open so he could kiss and bite down his neck, over his collarbone and across his chest, paying particular attention to his nipples.

  
“God, Spy, fuck, I missed you! Laurent,” he added, almost tentatively. He bucked and arched beneath his lover, hissing with pain and pleasure as Spy’s mouth worked him over. “Fuck, you feel so good!” he gasped.

  
“Mm,” he hummed, sitting up again and looking down at Sniper proprietarily. “I missed you too, Mick.” Spy got off him, stripping off his pants and looking down at Sniper’s belt and then back up at Sniper, raising his eyebrow, silently suggesting he strip.

  
Sniper blushed beneath Spy’s intense gaze, the hungry way his eyes roamed his body, and that he clearly wanted him to undress. Still lying flat, he undid his belt and fly and shimmied out of his trousers, tossing them carelessly on the floor.

  
“I love that you never wear anything under your pants,” Spy admitted, spreading Sniper’s legs and kneeling on the bed between his thighs. He dipped his head and took Sniper’s growing cock in his mouth, closing his eyes with pleasure.

  
“Why?” Sniper laughed, the question fading into a moan. “Oh god fuck Spy, Laurent!” he babbled, lifting his head to look down at Spy, eyes wide.

  
Spy was silent, not bothering to pull away to answer. He gave himself a few slow strokes, teasing himself fully hard as he took Sniper deeper.

  
The RED Spy raised an invisible eyebrow—this was more than he’d expected to see, and so quickly! He silently chided himself—this had been going on beneath his nose for who knew how long, and he hadn’t suspected a thing. Perhaps he should stay and watch just a little longer. For evidence. He regretted that he hadn’t brought a camera with him.

  
“Ohhhh, god, Laurent!” Sniper cried out, hands fisting in the sheets as he fought the urge to grab Spy’s hair and fuck his mouth.

  
Rather than tease him as he had been lately, Spy was happy to finish Sniper, hoping it would relieve a little of his lover’s worries about the other Spy and being found out. He was familiar now with the best ways to get Sniper off, and he used every trick he knew Sniper liked.

  
“Spy, Laurent, please, fuck, I’m not going to last!” Sniper laughed, hips arching up to meet Spy’s mouth every time he drew away.

  
Spy gave a soft, affirmative hum. He took Sniper right to the base, controlling his gag reflex as he held him there, enjoying the weight and feel of Sniper’s cock on his tongue.

  
Hands clawing the air wildly, digging into Spy’s shoulder and catching in his hair, Sniper came down Spy’s throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he gasped, all thoughts of his potential slip-up draining away. “God, what you do to me!” he laughed in astonishment as soon as he could speak again, staring down at Spy with…admiration.

  
Spy sat him, licking his lips and swallowing. “You’re lovely,” he purred, then froze. He smelled cigarette smoke, and not his own brand. Without a word, still completely naked, Spy darted outside, heading to the window and slamming the invisible BLU Spy into the side of the camper.

  
“Oi!” Sniper yelled after him, “don’t stick around or anything! Wanker.” A moment later he heard a thud, and the camper rocked a little. “…What’re you doing out there?”

  
“ _Merde_!” The invisible Spy’s cloak shorted out with the impact, leaving him visible, pinned to the camper by the other Spy’s arm across his throat. He flicked through a few possible reactions, settling on disdain. He glanced down, then up again, raising an eyebrow. “You’re poking me. Please, for both our sakes, put some clothes on.” He made a disgusted face. “I can feel a damp spot!”

  
The BLU just smirked. “This is what happens when you sneak about and watch people having sex, you pervert. Come on, now.” He forced the RED Spy’s arms behind his back and marched him into Sniper’s camper, kicking the back of his knees so he was forced to kneel, his arms held uncomfortably high behind his back. “Look who I caught.”

  
“Jesus-fucking-Christ!” Sniper, who a moment ago would’ve said he couldn’t move, leapt instantly to his feet, scrambling to wrap a blanket around himself. “Spy—my…RED Spy, what the fuck are you doing?”

  
“This is all very unnecessary,” the RED Spy sneered, twisting a little, trying not to show his discomfort. “I was merely doing my job. Unlike the two of you.” He smirked. “Who were doing…well, you know.”

  
“Well, now it’s time for me to do my job,” Laurent grinned. “And I know your weak spot. Your son.”

  
“…Spy…” Sniper looked uncomfortable. “That seems a bit…personal, don’t you think? He hasn’t threatened us or anything. Yet.”

  
The RED Spy raised an eyebrow, a clear challenge, trying to hide the way his jaw tightened with rage at the mention of his…offspring. “Yes, aren’t you going to ask what I’m planning first?”

  
“Why bother? It’ll be some form of blackmail, and I really would prefer you talk as little as possible. Your voice is grating, you know.” Spy gave Sniper a little wink over the intruder’s head. “Now, you can continue to bother us, and I’ll torment Scout in every way I know how. Or you could forget you’ve seen us, forget you know anything about us, and I will…keep you updated on him, and his current boyfriends.”

  
Sniper’s eyes darted between the two Spies. It seemed…improbable, but there was no mistaking the look on the BLU’s face, even though he was trying desperately to hide it. He sat on the bed again, shaking his head. “That’s true? I thought it was just a stupid rumour!”

  
“I don’t care what you do with him,” the RED Spy gritted out through clenched teeth. “Why should I? He’s nothing to me.”

  
“If that’s true, then I’m sure you won’t mind if I sabotage his bank account, his relationship with his family, ruin his career and break up him and his boyfriends?” Spy smiled, innocently. “Plus, I could tell him I’ve found his father, and he just won’t believe who it is!”

  
“He won’t believe you,” the RED scoffed, eyes darting around uncomfortably. “Why-why would I care if you did any of those things to the boy? He’s not even on my team.”

  
“Can we go outside for a moment, just the two of us?” Sniper asked.

  
“No, I’m not leaving him in here alone…” Spy said, then grinned. “without tying him up, anyway.” He grabbed the coil of rope and quickly and efficiently hogtied the other Spy, making sure he was terribly uncomfortable, and stripping him of his knife. Still naked, Spy nodded to Sniper to step out and followed his lead, heading to the back of the camper so no one on his base would see a naked BLU by Sniper’s camper.

  
“I was thinking we’d just lean against the door, but alright. You’re just enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sniper shook his head. Lowering his voice, he said, “I just wanted to remind you that I still have to work with him. He can make my life miserable, just like you can make his—” he couldn’t say it with a straight face “—his son’s miserable. Boyfriends?” he added, unable to contain his curiosity.

  
“The whole point of this deal is to keep him from making our lives hell, or getting us killed by the Administrator,” Spy hissed. “Please, let me handle this. This is what I do.”

  
Sniper’s face flushed with shame, and he looked down and away. “Sorry, mate. You’re right. I trust you to do this, of course. I shouldn’t’ve… Sorry.”

  
“Trouble in paradise?” the RED Spy called, unable to resist, even though it was probably against his best interests. He couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but they probably hadn’t gone outside to discuss how much they agreed on something.

  
“I should have gagged him,” Laurent sighed. “It’s alright, I doubt you’ve been in this kind of situation before. If he does a single thing to bother you, let me know, and I will put more pressure on him. But until then, just trust that I know his weaknesses well enough to exploit them.” He headed back into the camper after squeezing Sniper’s shoulder gently, letting him know he wasn’t upset. He nudged the prone man on the camper floor. “Now, how about our deal, hm? I have a recording of you and the boy’s mother talking on the phone,” he smirked. “I could easily give it to Scout.”

  
The RED Spy ground his teeth, but nodded. “Oh, very well. This is very undignified; untie me.” He smiled wickedly at his Sniper. “It’s a pity. I thought you were more…professional…than this.”

  
Spy toyed with the intruder’s knife, idly, looking down at him grimly. “Do you really want to be jabbing at him when I have your son’s welfare in my hands?” He didn’t move to undo the knots. “I expect you to apologize before I let you go.”

  
The RED Spy snarled a rather elegant French curse. “Very well. I apologize.”

  
Smiling benignly, Laurent patted him on the head, undoing the knots keeping him bound. “Get out.”

  
Shaking with humiliation and impotent rage, the RED Spy climbed to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster, brushed off his suit, and swept out of the camper.

  
Spy sat on the edge of the bed, groaning, with his head in his hands. That had not been how he’d wanted to spend his first night of the weekend with Sniper.  
Sniper bit his lip, visibly shaking. He waited a few minutes, until the other Spy was hopefully out of earshot, and then he started laughing so hard his eyes watered. He leaned against the camper wall, hooting with laughter.

  
Spy looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

  
“That was… You… He…!” Sniper collapsed on the bed, facedown.

  
“What?!” Spy couldn’t help laughing too, it was contagious. He actually laughed until he snorted, and then immediately flushed, covering his mouth.

  
Sniper’s eyes widened in adoration, but he managed not to say anything. He’d heard his Spy—the recently vanquished RED Spy—snort on occasion and always laughed. It was nice to see that wanker knocked down a peg or two. He’d thought he’d heard the BLU Spy do it on a few occasions just as Sniper was dying, but he’d never thought he’d hear it like this. During shared laughter. It was such an open, honest expression of Spy’s amusement, and Sniper loved it.

  
“What’s so funny?” Sniper hadn’t said anything, so Spy was happy to pretend his snort had never happened.

  
“That was insane!” Sniper rolled onto his back, rocking back and forth a little, giggling helplessly.

  
“Welcome to life as a spy,” he sighed, lying next to Sniper.

  
“Fuck.” He shook his head. “You can keep it.”

  
He laughed, leaning in to Sniper and pressing his face in against his neck. “That was more excitement than I wanted for my Friday night.”

  
“Agreed.” Sniper leaned against him as well, resting his head on top of Spy’s. “I wanted to spend it with a Spy, but just one.” He turned his head so his mouth was against Spy’s ear. “That’s you,” he murmured, kissing Spy’s earlobe.

  
“I never would have guessed,” he teased. “I was wondering if he’d ever catch on. I hope I would be quicker on the uptake if he were sleeping with the BLU Sniper.”  
Sniper snorted. “Is—no, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to talk about anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone else for the next two days!”

  
“Good,” Spy grinned, pressing him back down to the bed and kissing him soundly.  



	21. Furlough Again

They continued seeing each other every weekend, though they were careful not to stray into the week as they had with their bondage fun. Time seemed to pass quickly, and soon enough they were ready to go on furlough again. Spy was even more excited this time. He’d gotten a few packages in the mail in preparation and he had some plans that he was barely able to contain. 

  
Sitting beside Spy in a rented car, on the way to the hotel where they’d shared a room last furlough—at least, Sniper assumed so, since they were in the same city, though who knew with Spy—Sniper laid a hand on Spy’s thigh, laughing. “You’re practically vibrating, mate!” he teased, enjoying the cool breeze coming in through the open window. “You must have something good up your well-tailored sleeves, mmm?”

  
“I do,” he smiled, squeezing Sniper’s thigh as he drove.

  
Sniper grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling with happiness. He wanted to kiss Spy, to take his hand again, but he knew he couldn’t until they were safely in their room. He waited impatiently for Spy to finish checking them in, slowly moving their bags closer to the elevator, a few feet at a time.

  
Spy gave him a look, trying not to grin. He helped get them in the elevator and up to their room. As soon as they were locked safely away from prying eyes, he kissed him. “Eager dingo,” he laughed. “Just couldn’t wait for me.”

  
“I don’t know what it is about you!” Sniper shook his head, kissing Spy back deeply and passionately. “Just can’t keep my hands—my lips—off of you. Having you right in front of me when I can’t touch you is—” He cut himself off abruptly, worried that Spy would take his words to heart and use them against him during their play. 

  
“Is what…?” Spy did pick up on that, and smirked. “Torture?”

  
“No. I love it. It’s my favourite thing.” Sniper couldn’t keep a straight face even as he said it.

  
“You’re adorable,” Spy told him. He could barely keep himself from giving Sniper his presents right now, as soon as they’d gotten in. He wanted them to be settled in first, but it was hard to wait.

  
“I’m not!” Sniper protested, laughing. 

  
“Mm, I disagree.” Spy stroked a hand over the back of Sniper’s neck, pulling himself up for another kiss.

  
“At this rate we’re not even going to make it to the bed,” Sniper growled against Spy’s lips.

  
“You could fuck me up against the door,” he groaned. It felt risky, somehow, like it was more likely someone would hear them, even if Spy had gotten a corner room and the room next to it.

  
“Could I now?” Sniper’s voice was low with arousal, hands freely roaming Spy’s body. “Maybe I’d like that.”

  
“Maybe I would too.” Spy unbuttoned Sniper’s shirt, running his hands over his chest admiringly. “You’ve never fucked me up against a wall before…too difficult in your camper.”

  
Sniper laughed. “Yeah, the whole thing might tip over if we tried that.” He hummed with pleasure, spreading his arms and letting the shirt fall down to his wrists, giving Spy more access and trapping his hands a little.

  
Spy pinched his nipples, then scratched his nails down Sniper’s chest and abdomen. He slid his hands to Sniper’s belt, undoing it and then undoing his own and working his way out of his pants with Sniper still pressed up close to him.

  
“You don’t know how hard I’ve been, the whole time travelling here, thinking about you. On the drive to the train station, on the train, on the way here…” He gave a kind of full-body shiver, as though shaking off a layer of dust. “Wanted you. Needed you.” He pressed his own pelvis against Spy’s, letting Spy feel the truth of his words. 

  
“I may have noticed once or twice,” Spy said. It was difficult to tease someone when he was breathless with arousal. He tugged down Sniper’s pants, stroking his already dripping cock. “Don’t make me wait, Mick.”

  
“What do you want?” Sniper groaned, slowly thrusting into Spy’s hand. “Anything. I’ll give it to you.”

  
“Fuck me against the door,” he demanded, fingernails digging into the back of Sniper’s neck.

  
Sniper cried out, head snapping back, then pushing forward to offer Spy better access to his neck. “Alright,” he gasped, grinning. He gathered up their scattered clothes—he could’ve used his cock as a coat rack at this point—and dumped them on the bed, so they wouldn’t get tangled. “Lube?” he asked, sounding a little desperate, already pawing through their bags.

  
Spy dug it out of his bag quickly, passing it to his lover. 

  
Sniper poured a generous handful, barely taking time to warm it before slathering it on his cock. “You don’t need to be opened up, do you? Bet you can just take it, can’t you?”

  
“Yes, yes!” Spy cried, wrapping one of his legs around Sniper, waiting for him to lift him up against the door. He’d never been fucked this way and it was exciting.   
“Eager, aren’t we?” Sniper teased, but he couldn’t keep his own eagerness out of his voice. He put an arm under each of Spy’s thighs, lifting him until his back was against the door, taking some of his weight off of Sniper. “Ready?” he growled.

  
He nodded, not trusting his voice to be steady. He was pretty much helpless in this position, at Sniper’s mercy—unless he told him otherwise, of course.

  
There were a few moments of slippery fun while Sniper tried to line himself up without using a hand, and he couldn’t help laughing at himself. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he told Spy, already letting go of one thigh so he could position himself properly. 

  
Moaning every time Sniper’s slick cock slid over him, Spy put his arms around Sniper, trying to angle himself so it would be easier for Sniper to enter him. He was glad, suddenly, that he was so light and that Sniper was taller. Otherwise this likely wouldn’t be possible. 

  
“There,” Sniper sighed, eyes closing with raw, almost overwhelming pleasure as his head finally slid inside. “That’s it. Fuck, Spy!” He laughed, leaning forward to murmur, “Hope this door has good hinges,” against Spy’s ear.

  
Spy gave a wordless cry. Just the idea of breaking the door by fucking against it was thrilling. The real life consequences would be difficult to deal with—they’d need to disappear quickly—but the fantasy of it was erotic. Finally, Spy managed to string a few words together. “Mick, fuck, oh fuck, please—!” His own weight brought him down on Sniper’s cock and it seemed like he was deeper than ever in this position. He gave a high moan as his body swallowed the cock inside him right to the base. 

  
“Sorry, sorry, hope that wasn’t too fast!” Sniper gasped, feeling a little rushed himself. He shifted his hand back to support Spy’s leg again, forcing him against the door with his body.

  
Spy let out a soft sound every time Sniper lifted him off his cock. His face was already going red, a sign that he was close to the edge. His cock was twitching against his stomach, leaking lewdly, without even being touched.

  
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ What do you want, hmm?” Sniper growled, grinning wide enough to show his sharp eyeteeth. “Want me to fuck you good and proper, until you’re filthy and you can’t walk right tomorrow?” 

  
“Yes, yes!” Spy’s fingernails dug into Sniper’s shoulders as he tried to keep his weight on the door and Sniper’s shoulders rather than the man’s hands. “God, you feel so good!”

  
“You too. Fuck, I don’t think I can last long like this!” Sniper laughed. He felt giddy, almost drunk. Now that they’d found a good balance, Sniper started to move, lifting Spy by his hips as much as he could, rocking them both back and forth together. He found that he could do more front and back than up and down motion, but everything he did felt profoundly amazing. 

  
Spy just nodded when Sniper said he wasn’t going to last. It wasn’t much longer before Spy came all over himself, his breath caught in his throat, his climax silent.    
Sniper followed the barest instant later, relieved that Spy had cum so quickly. He wrapped his arms against Spy, mashing them both against the door as he came deep inside his lover with a series of short, erratic thrusts. 

  
Spy sagged against the door, holding tight to Sniper’s neck. As soon as Sniper pulled out of him, he let his legs fall from around his hips and leaned hard against the door. “Oh,” he panted. “Help me walk to the bed,” he laughed softly. He felt like his legs had been fucked out from under him.

  
“You’re not hurting?” Sniper asked, concern clear in his voice. He wrapped his arms around Spy’s waist and carried him—a little wobbly legged himself—to the untouched bed. 

  
They both flopped on the bed, Spy laughing helplessly. “I’m fine, just don’t have any muscles in my legs.” He kissed Sniper, trailing kisses over his shoulder and neck. “You’re wonderful.”

  
“That’s good.” Sniper kissed Spy back, shivering beneath Spy’s gentle lips. “You’re wonderful too,” he added, softly.

  
Spy smiled, closing his eyes as they lay together. He was looking forward to spend all furlough like this.

  
***

  
Spy woke suddenly from a nightmare, but instead of finding himself on the floor, he found that Sniper—still awake—had caught him before he fell. Sniper held and soothed him until he fell back asleep.    


 

***

 

Spy woke first, and snuck out of bed. He had a quick shower; they hadn’t cleaned themselves up last night and he still had dried semen on his stomach and chest. He ordered breakfast for the two of them and by the time it arrived, Sniper was stirring. Spy set out their food on the table, and also laid two boxes in the middle of the table, between them. One was small, the other larger, and they were both simple white boxes.

  
“Morning,” Spy murmured, leaning over him for a kiss.

  
“Morning.” Sniper smiled up at him, warm and open. 

  
“Breakfast’s here,” he stroked some of Sniper’s hair away from his forehead.

  
“You’ll spoil me. I’ll be a fat, lazy dingo who won’t even get out of bed. Too fat for my tutu, even.”

  
“Hah, then I’ll just get you a new one,” Spy teased. “Get up, dingo.”

  
“I didn’t mean I wanted to get out of bed now!” Sniper groaned, laughing. He playfully threw a pillow at Spy, but reluctantly got to his feet. “I wasn’t complaining. You’re not going to make me exercise now, are you?”

  
“Breakfast is on the table, so no breakfast in bed today.” Spy caught the pillow and tossed it back on the bed with a smirk. “Brat.”

  
“Pest,” Sniper countered, cheerily. Still naked, he sat at the table, happily digging into a pile of eggs, bacon, and toast. 

  
Spy smiled wryly as he realized that Sniper hadn’t noticed the boxes. He ate his breakfast, keeping an eye on Sniper as he did. 

  
“What’s your plan for today—and don’t try to tell me you don’t have one.”

  
“Well, I was rather hoping you’d be more observant,” he chuckled.

  
“More observant than what?”

  
“Maybe observant enough to notice the boxes on the table,” he stifled a laugh. He put his fork down, finished his food.

  
Sniper frowned at them, fork halfway to his mouth. “I just thought they were…from the hotel or something!”

  
“Cute,” Spy smiled. “You can open them when you’re done.”

  
Sniper finished his breakfast—not slowly, but not rushed, either—grumbling to himself a little. Pushing his plate away, he raised an eyebrow at Spy. “Can I open them now?”

  
“I wanted to tell you something first,” he said, though he had only just realized that he wanted to say it before Sniper opened his gifts. 

  
“Alright…” There was a strangeness in Spy’s voice that made Sniper a little nervous. 

  
Spy reached over the table to take Sniper’s hand. “I love you.”

  
Sniper’s eyes widened. He froze, going stiff in his chair. 

  
Spy suddenly couldn’t breathe. Fuck, this had been too soon. Maybe too much, ever. Sniper didn’t feel the same. Sniper didn’t think they were that serious. Fuck. 

  
“Spy…” Sniper finally managed to speak. Seeing the stricken expression on Spy’s face, he quickly leaned forward and kissed Spy’s hand. “Oh, god, Spy, I’m sorry! I love you too,” he said quickly, to take that look off Spy’s face. “I love you too.” He said it again, slower, softer, just to feel the words in his mouth, hear how true they rang in his ears.

  
Spy squeezed his hand tightly, not sure how else to communicate how happy he was. The sudden switch between anticipation, fear, and relief nearly brought him to tears and he took a moment to compose himself.

  
Sniper’s eyes weren’t exactly dry, either. He stood and circled the table, standing behind Spy and wrapping his arms around him, resting his cheek on the top of Spy’s head.

  
They stayed like that for a long moment, before Spy finally drew Sniper down for a tender kiss. He’d never expected to have this kind of relationship in his adult life and now that he did, it was a little terrifying. Where did they go from here? What would change now that they’d said it? And what would change after Sniper opened his gifts?

  
“Love you,” Sniper whispered, after returning the kiss. 

  
“Love you too.” It felt good to say it, right. It eased his fear somewhat. He tapped the top of the smaller box with a sly smile. He was containing his excitement remarkably well, acting composed, but happy. 

  
“Oh. Right!” Sniper laughed, sniffing a little. He’d completely forgotten about the presents. Entertaining as it was to see Spy this visibly excited, Sniper wanted to know what surprises Spy had for him. He opened the smaller box first, lifting the lid a little, then shutting it. “Would…would it be too much if I said I’ve already gotten the best present?” He grinned while he said it, trying to play the words off as silly in case Spy didn’t like them. 

  
“A little, but I like it,” Spy admitted. “This is sort of…a part of it.”

  
“Sorry.” Sniper laughed. “Part of…what you just said?” He wanted to say it, over and over, but he also wanted to savour it, a tiny morsel at a time. 

  
“Yes.”

  
Sniper nodded, opening the lid. Nestled inside, on a shiny piece of white cloth, was a brown leather collar. It was surprisingly plain, considering who was giving it.    
Spy watched Sniper eagerly for some kind of reaction. He seemed frozen in place. Spy leaned forwards and took out the collar. He showed Sniper the back, where a small dingo was tooled into the leather. “I thought it was about time I gave you a proper collar.”

  
“Spy…” Unable to think of the proper words, he stood and moved closer to Spy, lowering his head silently. 

  
Just as silently, Spy put the collar around his neck, doing it up gently in the front. It looked just like he’d hoped. The brown leather was unusual for a collar like this, he thought, but it suited Sniper perfectly. 

  
Sniper laid his cheek against Spy’s hand, hoping he could feel the warmth and love he felt for him. 

  
Spy leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his forehead. They stood still for a time, just savouring the moment.

  
“Love you,” Sniper murmured. He pulled away just a little before kneeling right beside Spy, head resting against his waist. 

  
“Love you too.” Spy put his hands on Sniper’s head. It felt almost like a ritual, like something deeper than their confession just a minute ago. Like Sniper was properly his now.   
  


 

***

 

  
They spent the rest of the morning just lying together. It was some time before either of them remembered the other box on the table.

  
Sniper kept reaching up to touch his new collar, snuggling even tighter against Spy every time he did, hoping Spy wouldn’t notice what he was doing.    
Spy did notice, but said nothing. He was just glad Sniper liked it. Eventually he looked over at the table and realized what they’d forgotten. “Oh, there’s one more box for you,” he smiled. “I forgot about it completely.”

  
“You’re right!” Sniper laughed, shaking his head. “We’re a fine pair of fools, aren’t we?” He kissed Spy’s forehead. “You’ve already given me so much today…”

  
“Mhm,” Spy agreed, grinning. “Let’s just say I wasn’t going to let you have a brand new collar without a few matching things to go with it.”

  
“Of course not.” Sniper rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, I’ll get up.” He rolled out of bed with a dramatic groan, retrieved the box, and brought it back to Spy before opening it. He pulled out wrist- and ankle-cuffs, a flogger, and a riding crop, all made with brown leather that matched his new collar. Frowning, Sniper leaned forward and sniffed the box’s contents, then picked up the ankle cuffs and examined them closely. “Is this…kangaroo leather?”

  
Spy smirked. “Yes.” His smile softened a little. “You like them?”

  
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Sniper told him, his voice a little tight. Carefully setting the box aside, he snuggled against Spy again, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. “Thank you,” he whispered in Spy’s ear. “I love them. I love—” he started to cut himself off, remembered he was free to say it “—I love you.”

  
“Love you too.”   



	22. Honesty and a loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy has a little realization, and Sniper endures a tragedy.

Spy, tucked under Sniper’s chin after the sweetest and gentlest sex they’d ever had, couldn’t sleep. Surely it was just from the stress and build up of their confessions earlier. But he couldn’t stop thinking.

He cared about Sniper. He loved him. He’d never had a relationship quite like this before. What made this feel so different?

Sniper _knew_ him. Sniper knew his job, his habits, his interests. He knew Laurent, not just Spy. And he also knew Spy, which was an important part of him.

He knew the filthy, affectionate, silly, and needy person who was under the suave persona, but wasn’t surprised to find that his lover was a spy, either.

It hit him suddenly and he took in a little gasp. 

_He’d never lied to Sniper._

After their initial meeting, as soon as he’d revealed himself, he had been honest with Sniper. Completely and totally. He’d never really worried that it would come back to bite him. At first just because he felt like he had more dirt on Sniper than Sniper did on him, but quickly enough it was for more complicated, emotional reasons. 

“You alright?” Sniper laughed gently, stroking Spy’s hair. “You’re twitching and gasping like we’re still going at it.”

“Fine, fine,” he assured him. “I just realized something, about us.” He placed a kiss on Sniper’s breastbone. “I’ve never lied to you.”

Sniper furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” He laughed again, a little nervously this time. “You’re a Spy…”

“Yes. I’ve… I’ve not shared some things with you. And I’ve said things that weren’t true when I’ve teased you, and my first ten minutes with you as someone else were a lie.” _This was sounding like a lot of lying, now that he was saying it._ “But I’ve never told you a straight lie.” 

“I’m…not quite sure I know what you’re getting at, sorry.” Sniper frowned. He could tell this was important to Spy, but he didn’t understand. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a partner I didn’t lie to.” _Ugh, this was just sounding bad. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it._ “Never mind, it’s just something I realized.” 

“No, no! Just…let me think a moment.” Sniper held Spy a little tighter, as though he’d tried to escape. “You’ve never lied to me…about anything important. About us. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

“I love you,” Sniper murmured, holding Spy even tighter. “I’m glad I can say it now—and I’m glad you said it first!—because I do, and…and maybe never more than right now, which I didn’t think was possible, because I’ve loved you a lot, for a long time, and…” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not even making sense now.”

“I like hearing you ramble anyway,” Spy assured him, with a little grin. “I love you too. And I’m glad it’s important to you too.”

“Well, that’s good,” Sniper laughed, “’cause I seem to do it around you often enough!” His face turned serious again, and he kissed the top of Spy’s head. “Of course it’s important to me. I’m glad you told me. I—it’s a little unbelievable really. I’ve never lied to you, either, though you probably wouldn’t expect me to’ve.” He thought for a moment, then grinned.

Spy wound his arm around Sniper’s neck and pulled him down for a proper kiss.  


***

 

Sniper whistled as he walked back to his camper. He’d missed Spy fiercely the night before, and when even wanking hadn’t helped him fall asleep, he’d walked out into the cool desert. He’d stumbled across a rabbit warren more or less by accident and set out a few snares while it was still dark. Soon after dawn he’d caught several and was now carrying them back to clean and skin. Maybe he’d save some of the meat, make Spy a rabbit stew. Maybe not tell him what the meat was until they’d finished. 

He heard shouting ahead of him and sped up. That wasn’t right. His camper wasn’t too distant from the base, true, but he kept enough space specifically that he couldn’t hear most of the awful din his teammates seemed to crave. 

It sounded like it was coming from his camper. 

He crested the final hill and…froze. 

His whole team was assembled outside their base, standing amidst the charred, blackened ruins of… “My camper!” He ran the rest of the way. No. This couldn’t be. There was some sort of mistake, a-a horrible joke. His camper—his home—couldn’t be gone, not like this. 

Engineer stepped forwards, hands out placatingly. “Now, Sniper, I know this is bad, but it was an accident, and Scout will pay for a new camper.” He was ready to catch Sniper if he went for Scout, which he was sure he would. 

Scout, meanwhile, was hiding behind Soldier, who he’d ‘borrowed’ a rocket launcher from.

“A new—! What. Happened.”

“He thought he’d steal a rocket launcher and try it out in the desert.”

“It was an accident!” Scout piped up.

“Mm. I see.” Sniper nodded. “I’ll kill you, you fucking little mongrel!” He found himself diving at Scout, shouldering Engineer out of the way. The words seemed to be coming from someone else, like he was just watching it all happen without taking part.

Engineer and Demo grabbed him, holding him back. Demo wrapped his arms around Sniper tightly, holding him in a bear hug. Engineer let go as Sniper seemed to stop struggling. 

“There’s nothing we can do, lad.”

Sniper snarled, actually snapping at the hands restraining him. He was crying so hard he couldn’t see—he hated crying in front of people, and that only made him angrier, which made him cry harder—and screaming, sometimes words, sometimes curses, sometimes just raw noise. His camper. His home for almost his entire adult life. It had travelled the world with him, and had the scars to prove it. All his memories, all his clothes, all his…stupid chipped dishes that Spy had slowly been replacing. All his pictures. Fuck. His entire life, gone. He was glad when Engineer ushered Scout away—if he had to look at the little fucker any longer right now, he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

Demo held him until he couldn’t scream anymore, slowly letting them both fall to the grass. He kept holding Sniper after he finally went limp, Sniper’s head against his chest, though now it was for comfort instead of restraint. “Are ye going to stay in base? Or does your Spy have space for ye?”

Sniper shrugged, listlessly. “I don’t know. I don’t even have a way to get in touch with him outside of battle. Laurent just…shows up when he wants, and then leaves again.” He laughed, the sound brittle with an edge of hysteria. “Only now there’s nowhere for him to show up!” He blinked. His mind felt dangerously, painfully slow. “You-you know about…that?” he asked, horrified. He felt the blood drain from his face. All that time spent worrying about his Spy, and his Demo had known for… “How long?” he demanded. Having something else to think about—something to be angry and afraid about—actually made him feel a fraction better. His blood ran cold—not only had he just confirmed it, if Demo had only been baiting him to see if a rumour or something was true…he’d called the enemy Spy by name. He was so fucked, and he had no way of warning Spy about the avalanche of grief that was about to crush them. 

“How long…?” Demo asked, before he realized it was connected to Sniper’s earlier statement. “Oh, lad, I’ve known for months. Is it a secret?”

“Yes! Obviously!” Sniper shook his head. “Who else knows?”

“I’ve no idea,” he shrugged. “I thought it was obvious. But I won’t tell, I dinnae care.” There was just something about the two of them that he’d subconsciously picked up, just seeing them in battle together.

Sniper shook his head again, closing his eyes with exhausted relief. He was even able to laugh softly. “Well…thanks. For…” He shrugged. “How was it obvious?” he asked, suddenly. 

Demo merely shrugged again. He wasn’t sure if there had been an obvious sign or not, it had just seemed clear to him. “Want me to walk ye aways over there, see if ye can see him? I’ll walk ye back here again after, if ye need.”

Feeling his eyes well up with tears again, Sniper could only nod his thanks. He’d never spent much time with Demo—with any of his teammates—and he was touched that they apparently cared so much about someone who’d barely done more than nodded at them before disappearing for battle. “I-I’d like that,” he said, when he could speak again. “…thanks.” It seemed like an exceptionally inadequate word, but he didn’t know what else to say. He’d have to talk to Spy about it. He’d be able to come up with the perfect gesture, for Demo and Engineer. And what to do about Scout. 

They walked slowly towards the other base. Suddenly, Spy appeared quite close to them, jogging over to Sniper. He’d heard from his Sniper, the BLU Sniper, that something had happened to the enemy’s camper. He’d regaled the team with that news over dinner. Spy had slipped away as soon as he could to go see if it was true. If Sniper were coming to him, it must be true. He wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the Demoman. If he was walking Sniper out here, he must know about them already. Still, he spoke in French. “ _Mick, I heard, I’m so sorry_ .” 

Sniper hugged him back, fiercely, also ignoring Demo’s presence for the moment. He drew away after a moment, embarrassed. He took a small step away from Spy, facing Demo again. “Thank you. So much. I’ll…later?”

“Later,” he agreed, giving Sniper a pat on the shoulder before heading back to the BLU base.

Spy waited until Demo was just out of earshot. “Let’s get you inside, and you can rest.” He didn’t ask anything about the camper. He wanted Sniper to tell him when he was ready. Sniper must be completely devastated. Not only did he lose his home, but everything he owned, minus a few things that Spy had. Which wasn’t much. Putting his cigarette case in Sniper’s hands, he pressed the right button and his lover disappeared in a shimmer and a bit of smoke. “This will get you in without any issues.”

The novelty of being invisible was enough to distract Sniper, at least for a few minutes. He waved his hand in front of his face, laughing. He tried to take a step, stumbling when his feet weren’t where he expected them to be. “I feel like a newborn foal! Please tell me you had trouble with this when you first tried it, too.”

“As far as I can tell, everyone does,” Spy assured him. “I fell flat on my face the first time I tried it. But you can lean on me, that’ll help you feel where you are.”

“Really?” Sniper laughed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t…thanks for telling me.” It took a bit of maneuvering, but eventually he managed to drape an arm over Spy’s shoulders, wrapping his other arm around Spy’s waist. Being able to feel Spy without seeing his limbs was…unsettling, and the novelty quickly wore off.

Slowly, Spy walking as naturally as possible with Sniper leaning on him, they made their way into the BLU base and to Spy’s room.

Though his room was nice, it was just like every other room in the base, spartan and small. Spy took the cigarette case off Sniper and turned it off. “There, you’re back.”

Sniper heaved a sigh of relief, sinking onto the bed and covering his face with his hands for a moment. “Ugh. I don’t think I liked that very much after all. Glad I don’t have to do it all the time.” He shook his head. “Listen to me complaining. Sorry. Thanks, for…everything. For bringing me here.” He looked around, frowning a little. “I must say, of all the surprising things I’ve learned you’re more like Laurent than Spy—does that make sense?—I think this is the most surprising. That you just…sleep in your room, in the middle of the base.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Spy stood on the chair at his small desk, pulling down a very subtle hatch in the ceiling. “I live upstairs.” He pulled down a ladder and climbed up, waiting at the top for Sniper to follow him.

Sniper rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

Spy’s room up here was different. It was still plainer than most people would expect of him, but it was tidy and comfortable, the bed bigger than most, and whereas most rooms had a small WC, this one had a bathroom that included a tub. There was a chest at the foot of his bed, a small closet for his clothes, and on his desk were some photographs and an open photo album; Spy had borrowed their special album from Sniper’s camper to put a few surprises in it. Luckily, the only toys they had lost in the wreck of Sniper’s camper were Spy’s old black and purple set, as well as some rope. This was their first week after furlough, and it had made more sense for Spy to take the toys home, since he had room in his bags and Sniper did not.

Spy pulled the ladder back up, untying his shoes and leaving them by the hatch. He sat at the edge of the bed, letting Sniper snoop around.

After glancing at Spy for confirmation, Sniper happily indulged in a brief self-guided tour of Spy’s actual living quarters. “This is more like it,” he teased. “Thought I’d badly misread you for a moment there.” His eyes lit up when he saw the photo album on the desk. “I…didn’t even know you had this! You sneaky little pest…” He felt his eyes welling up again and he quickly wiped them with the back of his hand. He was tired and wanted to sit, but he found himself reluctant to approach the bed without Spy’s explicit permission.

Spy held out a hand for him once Sniper seemed satisfied with his exploration, waiting for his lover to join him.

Sniper happily joined Spy on the bed. He felt utterly spent. He smelled like burning diesel, but he didn’t have a change of clothes and he felt too exhausted for a bath. “Is this it, or is there another level?” he teased, giving Spy a tired smile.

“No, this is it,” he smiled back, stroking Sniper’s hair. He didn’t complain about Sniper smelling of fuel. “Why don’t you get undressed, I’ll bring you something to eat if you’re hungry, or you can just rest,” he suggested.

Sniper nodded gratefully, relieved to have someone else telling him what to do so he wouldn’t have to think for himself. He undressed woodenly and sat on the edge of the bed again as soon as he was naked. He piled his clothes up, wishing he could get rid of them somehow without having to move.

Spy pushed him down against the pillows, tucking him in and kissing his forehead. “You sleep.”

“I don’t know if I…” Sniper’s eyes drifted shut. Spy’s hands felt so nice, stroking him gently.

 

***

 

Spy had so much to do.

First, he called Miss Pauling, feigned Sniper’s voice, and let her know (most of) the situation. Sniper would need new clothes, new uniforms, new weapons, new everything. They could be delivered to Sniper’s room on the RED base.

Next, Spy made a few more calls. As much as Sniper needed a new home, a new camper, he knew Sniper wouldn’t want to deal with it. His loss was too fresh, but as soon as he had a new place to live, he’d feel a little better. He’d hate to live on his own base, and even if Spy would be happy to let him stay, they both knew it would make getting to battle on time difficult for him.

Now all he could do was take care of Sniper, and wait for his plans to pay off.


	23. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short one
> 
> (and late, again, sorry)

Sniper woke up alone, in the dark, in an unfamiliar bed. He reached out, but his kukri wasn’t within his reach. Fighting down the urge to panic, he rolled off the bed, crouched on the floor while he tried to orient himself.

Spy sat up from his desk, where he’d fallen asleep. He turned on the lamp on the edge of his desk, standing. “Sorry, maybe I should have left the light on?” Spy apologized.

Breathing heavily, Sniper stood and rushed over to hug Spy, letting his familiar scent and shape comfort him. “Sorry.” He shook his head fondly. “What were you doing sleeping over there, anyway?”

“Mm, I had things to do, I suppose I didn’t make it to bed,” he sighed. “I called Miss Pauling, there are clothes and things waiting for you in your room.” He wanted to tell Sniper about the other arrangements he’d made, but figured it was better not to get his hopes up about anything, and just let him see them when they arrived.

“My room?”

“At your base?” Spy smiled. He wrapped Sniper up in his arms and led him back to bed. “I wish I had something else for you to wear.” He didn’t dare put something RED in one of the washing machines on base. He knew it was likely a silly thing to worry about, but if sentries could see RED as an enemy colour, who knows what else could. “I could run you a bath if you wanted, or we could go back to sleep, or I could get you something to eat…?”

“I have a room at my base?” Sniper’s thoughts felt thick and slow. He clung to Spy, a little ashamed of how needy he was acting, how needy he felt, but he also didn’t want to let go. He nodded. “I’m still tired, but I should probably have a bath. Probably eat something. Then sleep? I don’t…I don’t have to go right away, do I?”

“Of course not, battle isn’t for hours. You have a bath; I’ll go get us some food.” Spy ran Sniper a bath and got him settled before heading down to the kitchen. He stole some of the leftovers—it had been Pyro’s turn to cook tonight so it was bound to be good. After warming it up, he headed back up to his room.

“Right. Battle.” Sniper allowed Spy fuss over him and put him in the bath, even listlessly splashing some water on himself. As soon as Spy was gone, he drew his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and rested his forehead on his knees.

When he returned, Spy saw Sniper was frozen in the tub, and put their food down on his desk. He sat on the edge of the tub, taking a cloth and some soap and scrubbing the smell of fuel and sweat off Sniper’s skin, being slow and gentle. He said nothing, just trying to help Sniper relax.

“Thanks,” Sniper murmured after a while, reaching up to set his hand on Spy’s. “I’m sorry I’m so…useless.”

“You’ve gone through a lot today; I don’t mind taking care of you.” Spy squeezed Sniper’s hand. He got him to rinse off, then offered him a hand up. “The water and our food will get cold.”

Sniper nodded, taking Spy’s hand and letting him pull him out of the bath. He couldn’t seem to remember what to do next, so he just stood there, dripping and shivering.

Spy dried him off, giving him his bathrobe when he was done so he wouldn’t get cold. It was a little short for him, but it worked. He put Sniper on the edge of the bed and sat next to him, putting Sniper’s bowl of food right in his hands to encourage him to eat. Sniper was clearly still in shock from his loss. It might take awhile before he was able to take care of himself again. Hopefully he’d be alright for battle tomorrow.

Sniper stared down at the food as though he didn’t know what to do with it, but his stomach rumbled. That jogged his memory… “The rabbits. What happened to the rabbits?”

Spy frowned. “What rabbits?”

“I had—I caught some rabbits. I was carrying them home when…” He stared down at the mattress, fighting back more tears. He was tired of crying. He was just…tired.

Carefully, Spy wrapped his arms back around him. He wasn’t sure what to say. ‘It’s ok’ was clearly a lie. Sniper had lost his home, it wasn’t ok. “I’m here,” was all he could come up with. “I’ve got you.”

“I love you. So much.” Sniper leaned his head on Spy’s shoulder for a moment, then forced himself to eat, practically choking down the food. “I’m so glad I…we…”

“I love you too.” Spy kissed his cheek. “Just rest for tonight. We can figure everything out this weekend. You only have to get through one more battle.”

“One more battle,” Sniper repeated, grimly. “You…you’ll stay with me?” He reached over and laid a hand on Spy’s thigh, fingers biting deep for a moment before he realized he was doing it. “Sorry.” A thought occurred to him, and he visibly perked up. “Could…could I have my collar?” he asked, almost shyly.

“I’ll stay whenever I can,” he promised. He stood and went to the bag he’d gotten ready to take to Sniper’s, pulling out his brown leather collar. He let Sniper bow his head before tightening it around his neck, tugging gently at the o-ring.

Sniper immediately felt more relaxed. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, resting his forehead on Spy’s shoulder. “Thanks.” He managed a weak laugh. “I mostly just meant for tonight, but…I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you. When you can.” He shrugged. “Sorry. I’m sure it can’t be easy for you, going back and forth, even with your cloak.”

“I think you should stay with me this weekend,” Spy told him. “And every day that you need to, you’re welcome here. I’ll give you my extra cigarette case so you can come and go. But if you want me to join you on your base, I’ll do that. Every night, if you want.” It would be difficult to get back and forth in time for battle, but Spy would do it. For Sniper, he would do it.

“I’d like that, thanks.” Sniper nodded. “You’re amazing.” He managed a soft smile. “Pest.”

“Brat,” he responded, smiling back.

 


	24. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an invitation (and you know, some sex)

It was Sunday that Spy’s first surprise arrived. He drove Sniper to Teufort on Sunday, taking him to a big lot. There were several campers there, but Spy nudged them towards a particular camper; big, and unpainted.

Sniper frowned at Spy, opening his mouth to protest, then shut it. It felt too soon for him, but Spy was probably right—it wasn’t practical for him to stay with Spy, especially in one of their bases, and Sniper didn’t like sleeping—or at least trying to sleep—surrounded on all sides by his teammates. He wasn’t used to accepting help from other people, especially when he hadn’t asked for it, but he trusted Spy to have his best interests in mind. And Spy’s own, of course, but that was just part of Spy’s Spyness, and Sniper loved him.

Spy smiled at him, opening the camper door and stepping inside.

Sniper returned the smile, a little stiffly. He followed Spy into the camper, feeling something between nervousness and excitement.

It was empty. There was only a catalogue on the floor, and Spy scooped it up, handing it to Sniper.

“There’s…nothing in here.” Sniper gave him a perplexed smile.

Spy insistently put the catalogue in his hands. “It’s customizable.”

Frowning a little, Sniper flipped through the catalogue. He couldn’t read any of the captions, of course, but he quickly understood the gist—it showed the interior of the camper they were standing in, with different options—countertops, beds, even… “Is that a bathroom? And a TV?” he laughed. “This isn’t a camper, it’s a palace on wheels!” He turned in a circle, arms extended. “It’s huge! I hope you didn’t buy it already, mate. This is just…too much. If you have,” he hastened to add, “I’ll pay you back. Not like I can’t afford it.”

“I bought it, and whatever customizations you want. Money hardly means anything after all we’ve been paid at Team Fortress,” Spy shrugged. “And I think it’s a good size. For two.”

“You’re—wait. Two?” Sniper blinked.

Spy suddenly felt shy and awkward. Was this intruding too much? Sniper had lost his home and now Spy was inviting himself to move into Sniper’s new home. “Only if you wanted.”

Sniper reached out and grabbed Spy’s hand, almost pulled away again, then realized they were alone in the camper.  _ His _ camper, apparently. Their camper. He couldn’t quite manage words, so he settled for squeezing Spy’s hand and nodding.

Spy smiled, squeezing his hand back. Apparently it wasn’t too much. “I want it to be home.” Not only for Sniper, but for himself.

“For…for you, too?” Sniper offered him a shy smile.

“Yes.” He put his head on Sniper’s shoulder. “But I want you to arrange it how you like. You’ve lived in a camper for a long time, you’ll know what you prefer.” Spy did have one request however. “But I want to help pick the colours.”

“You…” Sniper had to stop for a moment so he wouldn’t start laughing. “You want to live in a  _ camper?” _

“This is a very nice camper. And really, I’ve already been living in a camper every weekend.”

“That’s…true.” Sniper grinned. “Sorry, I guess I still…I don’t know. Think about you wrong? Sometimes.” He wrapped his arms around Spy, picking him up a little. “It is a very nice camper, and I…” He swallowed, hard. He wanted this, more than anything, but it was still difficult to say out loud. “I want to live in it with you.” He snorted. “And some furniture, or something. Otherwise we’ll just rattle around like dried peas.” He was still having difficulty picturing living in this empty space. “I don’t suppose it handles very well?” he asked, frowning a little. It would be lovely when it was stopped—which would be most of the time—but the whole point of a camper was being able to move it whenever he liked.

“It’s one of the best campers, apparently.” Spy flipped through the catalogue and began to read out loud how the vehicle was designed. He wasn’t honestly sure what some of it meant, but it seemed to please Sniper.

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Sniper laughed. “If you’re anything, it’s thorough. I’m sorry I questioned you.” He took the catalogue back from Spy and kissed him, hands straying lower. “So…do you own it already?” he growled, lips brushing Spy’s ear.

“Yes,” he laughed, shivering a little at the sensation of Sniper’s breath against his ear. “But we don’t exactly have a bed!”

“Do we need one? The floor looks pretty clean to me.” He walked Spy over to the door, pinning him against the wall and flipping the lock. “There. Now no one can bother us.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Spy grinned at him, grinding up against him. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but the grabbing and growling were certainly getting him there.

“Want me to fuck you up against the wall…” Sniper shifted a little, feeling how the camper reacted to their combined weight leaning against it. It didn’t rock nearly as much as his old one would’ve. That probably meant that, Spy’s specifications aside, it handled like a boulder, but he wasn’t concerned about its drivability just now. “…or on the floor? Prove to me again how filthy you are, mm?” he teased.

“Fuck me on the floor,” he grinned, letting his hand wander down Sniper’s chest to grope him. “I’d even let you fuck me in the dirt outside,” he admitted.

“Ohhhh, fuck, don’t say that, mate!” Sniper laughed, leaning down to bite Spy’s lip. “You’ll tempt me.” He fell to his knees and fumbled at Spy’s belt. “We might have to try that sometime,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against Spy’s groin. “I’m probably making this more difficult for myself, aren’t I?” he laughed. “Don’t care. Want you. Need you. Any way I can have you.” He moved away just enough to give his hands access to Spy’s fly. “Fuck. We don’t have any lube.” He grinned up at Spy. “But, seeing as I’m down here anyway…”

Spy just gave him a smirk, producing a bottle of lube from his pocket and handing it to Sniper.

“You…” Sniper beamed up at him. “Did you imagine us doing this?” he demanded, shaking his head. “I don’t think I would’ve, even if I’d known where we were going!”

“No, but if I’m spending time with you, I usually have some on me,” he laughed, helping Sniper to undress him.

“I don’t know whether I’m insulted or flattered,” Sniper teased, pawing at Spy’s clothes in his rush to get him naked. He wasn’t being much help—maybe even a hindrance—but he was just so hungry for Spy’s skin.

“I just know us,” Spy grinned. “We can’t keep our hands off each other.” He pushed Sniper flat to the camper floor, stripping completely. He gave his cock a few strokes, looking down at Sniper with a suggestive smile.

“Mmm…we are that,” Sniper agreed, eagerly allowing himself to be drawn down. “Are you going to ride me? Going to come on our new floor?” he growled, stroking Spy’s sides, nails digging into his hips a little.

“Let’s get your pants off first.” Spy shifted back and undid Sniper’s belt, pulling off his pants to reveal his already straining erection.

“Right. That’ll help,” Sniper laughed, lifting his hips to help.

He hummed appreciatively, taking the lube back from Sniper and pouring some on the tip of his cock, working it down with his hand. He wiped the remaining lube off on Sniper’s shirt with a grin, then settled himself over Sniper’s hips to begin working his cock into himself.

“Thanks,” Sniper said dryly, before his eyes fluttered closed and his head snapped back, hands clawing at Spy’s thighs and sides. “Fuck, Spy,  _ fuck! _ I keep thinking I’ll—get used to this. That it’ll stop being  _ so good, _ but it never does!”

“It shouldn’t stop being good!” he protested, pressing himself down onto Sniper, until he was fully seated.

“No, of course not!” Sniper laughed, wildly. “It just keeps getting better, and I don’t know how!” He groaned, long and heartfelt. He’d tried to avoid moving his hips so far, so he wouldn’t push into Spy faster than his lover was comfortable, but now, feeling Spy bottom out, seeing the expression on his face, he couldn’t help thrusting up against him, pressing as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” Spy arched up, his hands grabbing Sniper roughly, nails digging in. He just let Sniper move them for awhile, enjoying the ride.

“Gonna make you come,” Sniper purred, grinning toothily up at Spy. “Gonna make you spatter all over our new camper. Make it really  _ ours.” _

Spy just nodded, biting his lower lip as Sniper bounced him on his cock. “You feel so good, pet, I love when you fuck me like this!”

“Good, because I love fucking you like this!” His eyes closed, and he shivered. “…and when you call me pet,” he admitted, cheeks reddening a little.

“I know,” he smiled down at him. Sniper always seemed to glow a little when he called him ‘boy’ or ‘pet,’ and it made Spy happy to do it. “Love you,” he gasped as Sniper’s cock slid over his prostate.

“I know that you know,” Sniper grumbled, good-naturedly. “Love you too.” He wrapped a hand around each of Spy’s hips, pinning him in place. “Fuck, Spy, I’m getting close,” he warned, hips bucking up to reach as deep inside Spy as he could go.

Spy just nodded, face red, breaths coming in quick stutters as he neared his climax.

“Good.” Sniper sat up as much as he could, wrapping his arms around Spy’s middle as he forced his way even deeper. “Fuck, Spy, you feel so good!” He shuddered, crying out as he came. One of his hands found Spy’s cock and he began to stroke it in quick, rhythmless movements.

Spy came across Sniper and the floor, gasping for breath. “Oh, oh, oh Mick!” His body relaxed around Sniper, and he leaned back a little precariously.

“I’ve got you.” Sniper reached out and caught one of Spy’s wrists, stroking it with his thumb as he came down from his own climax. He rolled his head to the side, grinning when he saw Spy’s come on the floor. “Perfect. Now it’s really ours.”

“Mmm.” Spy smiled, rolling off Sniper onto the other side so he wouldn’t lay in his own cum.

“Love you.” Sniper held an arm, inviting Spy to cuddle against him. “Love  _ this.” _ He gestured at the camper with his free arm, grinning tranquilly.

“Good. Love you too. I… I know it was hard to lose your camper, and I’m glad this wasn’t too soon.”

“I thought it was,” Sniper admitted, stroking Spy’s sweat-damp hair, “but…I think I needed it.” He laughed. “I was going to go crazy, trapped in a room on the base, surrounded by all those hooligans… And I liked staying with you, but I know that wasn’t easy for either of us. How soon can we get a bed in this thing, hmm?”

“Depends on how fast you decide on the configuration,” Spy sighed happily. This was the first time they’d had sex since Sniper’s camper had been destroyed. It was especially satisfying. “It’ll be done in a few days after that.”

“You don’t mind…helping a little?”

“Of course not, but I want you to be happy with it.”

“I’m already happy with it.”

“It’s just an empty box,” Spy laughed, kissing him.

“Yeah, but it’s an empty box with…you in it.” Sniper trailed off towards the end, a little embarrassed.

Spy smiled, kissing him again. “I’m glad that I’m an important part of your home.”

“You…” Sniper paused for a moment, then nodded. “You are,” he agreed, with a soft smile in return.

“You too,” he returned. He tried to wipe a bit of his own cum off Sniper’s shirt with a little smirk.

“Piss,” Sniper laughed. “I don’t suppose we can just drive back in this and I can just hide in the back?” He shook his head. “You could almost park your bloody car in here!”

“Hopefully no one will notice. Anyway, I’m not parked far away.” Still Spy couldn’t help teasing him. “You slob.”

“I’m the slob!” Sniper pointed at his shirt, then the drops on the floor. “I didn’t make that mess.”

“You certainly helped.” Spy took a few tissues out of his pocket and wiped up the floor. “There, now the workmen won’t be horrified.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re paying them more than enough to deal with a little cum. …probably a good idea, anyway. Shall we?” He gestured at the door grandly, then yawned. “Fuck, I just want a nap now.”

“You can sleep in the car,” Spy chuckled, stepping out and circling around to his car. “What colour were you hoping for the outside? Same as your other camper?”

“I’m not really picky about colour, mate. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know you could pick the colour, and it wouldn’t’ve occurred to me. I’m more than happy to let you decide…as long as it’s not bright green or yellow or something, but I don’t think that’s your style.” He sat beside Spy, reached over and squeezed his hand. “Especially for a place you’re living at least some of the time.”

“I like green,” he shrugged. It was better than a lot of the recommended colours, after all. Orangey-browns and yellows weren’t Spy’s favourites. He squeezed Sniper back before starting the car and driving them back to base.

“But not, I mean, lime green. Right, Spy?” Sniper couldn’t always tell when Spy was joking or not, and he was a tiny bit concerned.

“Do you think I would ever live in something that was lime green?”

“Good. That’s a relief.”


	25. Leashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are settling down again

Soon enough, the camper was in order, and the first night they slept in it, Spy brought all their shared toys over to stay in the camper, as well as the photo album and a few changes of clothes for himself.

“I wonder if they can add vehicles to respawn,” Sniper mused. “It makes me nervous, having all this in here again.” He grinned at Spy. “Going to start leaving things here? During the week, I mean?”

“I think so,” he nodded. “And I wouldn’t worry. Scout is never going near a rocket launcher again.” He tucked most of his things away for now, before offering Sniper his collar, holding it open and waiting for Sniper to lower his head.

“Oh?” Sniper laughed. “How are you going to control what my Scout does—not that I doubt your powers.” He happily positioned himself for his collar, humming softly with pleasure, his body relaxing, as it always did, when Spy slid the buckle into place.

“I don’t have to, I heard from your Spy that the Engineer and the Demoman both threatened him with bodily harm if he tried it again.”

“The two of you…talk?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He shrugged. “We exchange information.” They did talk every once in awhile, doing favours for each other while trying to get the upper hand at the same time. It was a strange and complicated relationship between two enemy spies who were only supposed to fight during their days and not their evenings or weekends. Spy smiled, admiring Sniper in his handsome leather collar. “And I brought a last surprise.” He took out a short length of matching leather with a clip on one end and a loop on the other; a leash.

Sniper couldn’t help blushing, as he usually did, beneath Spy’s intense, proprietary scrutiny. He shook his head when Spy held up the leash. “Did you forget to give it to me earlier?” He doubted that very much. “Or were you saving it?”

“I was saving it,” he admitted. He clipped it to Sniper’s collar, tugging him closer, sharply.

Sniper gasped, eyes fluttering closed with pleasure. He immediately complied, letting Spy pull him. “Oh. I…I like that,” he murmured, a little breathless.

“Really?” Spy teased. He pulled him down by the leash into a kiss.

“Yeah, real—oh.” Sniper shook his head, rolling his eyes as he kissed Spy back.

“You’re cute,” he grinned. Sniper still often missed his sarcasm. He pushed him a step back. “Undress.”

Sniper shivered; that tone in Spy’s voice completely undid him. At the same time, even though he was literally wearing Spy’s leash and collar, he couldn’t help rebelling. Just a little. Making pointedly direct eye contact with Spy, he started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Very slowly.

Spy raised an eyebrow, watching him silently. 

Sniper couldn’t help grinning. He slowed down even more.

Ignoring him, Spy began undressing himself and putting his own clothes aside, sitting on the edge of the bed and finally turning his eyes back to Sniper.

Unfortunately, Sniper was terrible at this game. As soon as he saw Spy naked, he wanted to be naked, too, to press every possible inch of their bare skin together. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside. He tried to take off his undershirt too but got tangled in the leash.

Spy stifled a smile and helped him untangle himself. “Pants too,” he instructed.

Sniper nodded eagerly, fumbling a little with his belt in his eagerness before finally managing to get it undone. He undid the fly and shook off his trousers, stepping out of them and leaving himself fully naked.

“You struggle to be a brat, don’t you?” Spy finally cracked a smile, grabbing Sniper’s leash and tugging him down to the bed.

“What do you mean?” Sniper gasped, not fighting Spy’s tug at all. His pupils were enormous with desire, almost swallowing his irises.

“You can’t even fight me a little.” Spy kissed him deeply, then passed him the lube. “Open me up,” he ordered.

He kissed Spy back, eyes closed, opening them reluctantly when Spy pulled away again. He took the lube with a nod, pouring some on his fingers, spreading it around and warming it. It was a little difficult to get himself into a good position with Spy holding the leash, keeping him tightly in place, but he managed. He pressed a finger against Spy’s entrance, just pushing inside, looking at Spy for confirmation.

Spy nodded, giving the leash a little jerk when he wanted him deeper. He looked up at Sniper, eyes soft. He moaned quietly as Sniper began to stretch him.

“I-I can fight you!” Sniper insisted, immediately pressing deeper. He was so turned on he could barely keep himself from shoving his finger in all the way, adding a second, going straight to fucking Spy.

“You can’t disobey me, pet. You’re no good at it.”

“…maybe not outright,” Sniper reluctantly admitted. “But I don’t always do exactly what you want right away!” He added a second finger. “Or sometimes I don’t wait for you to tell me to do something.” He looked very pleased with himself.

“Mhm. I said open me up, it’s fairly open ended.” He smiled. “Stop.”

Sniper twitched, obviously thinking. He bit his lower lip, then shook his head. His hand went still, and he blushed.

“Good boy,” Spy praised. “Fuck me.” He tugged the leash again.

“Dammit!” Sniper laughed, shaking his head again. He pulled his hand free and wiped the remaining lube on the sheets. Again, it took a little maneuvering to get into position because of the tight hold Spy had on his neck, but he was highly motivated. Every time Spy jerked the leash, it felt like the pressure travelled down his spine and straight to his cock. Every time Spy praised him, he felt a warm glow deep in his chest.

He lined himself up, head forced high by the lead, his tip just pressing against Spy’s opening. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Spy laughed, wrapping his legs around Sniper’s waist, pulling at his collar to encourage him.

Sniper grinned down at him. “Of course…I could take my time…” he drawled, pulling back just a little against the leash. He wiggled from side to side, rubbing and nudging against Spy.

Spy gripped the leash hard and pulled, trying to guide Sniper in.

Sniper resisted a moment longer, then gave in with a laugh. “The problem  _ is, _ most of the things you tell me to do I want to do already!” Not wanting to tease either of them any longer, he began sliding his length into Spy, going as slowly as he could stand—at least partially because he didn’t want to hurt Spy in their eagerness.

Spy fell back against the bed as Sniper’s cock pressed into him, weak against the pleasure of it. As he dropped to the bed, the leash pulled Sniper over him. He couldn’t even manage to say anything in response to his Sniper.

“I can never decide which I like better,” Sniper murmured, “being fucked by you, or fucking you.” He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. “There, that’s all of me.” Normally he would’ve reached out and given Spy a pat, but the pressure on his collar kept him a little off balance so he needed to brace himself with his hands.

“Good,” he panted. “I love both.” It was nice that Sniper wasn’t one of those men who assumed that whoever was getting fucked was the submissive one. He’d never shown any sign of thinking Spy was less in charge if he wanted to be fucked.

“Good, because so do I! Ready?” Sniper shifted ever so slightly, letting Spy feel him start to move.

He nodded, giving the leash a little jerk.

Sniper nodded back, shifting his hands to be more comfortable. He arched back against the leash, seeing how much room he had to move. Satisfied, he clenched his ass, pressing himself deeper for a moment before slowly drawing back.

“Oh! Oh fuck,” Spy breathed, tightening his legs around Sniper to draw him in further. “Love this. Love you,” he gasped out.

“Love you too!” Sniper loved being able to say it, finally. He’d come close, a few times, but he’d always shied away in case Spy didn’t feel the same way. “I’m glad you were brave enough to say it first.” Between Spy’s legs and tight grip on the leash, he couldn’t move very much, but Spy didn’t seem to have a problem with that—if he did, he could tell Sniper to move or release him, after all. He pulled as far out as he could, holding for a moment before driving back in. He repeated the motion again once, then began slowly picking up speed. He loved being able to watch Spy’s expression beneath him, partially obscured by the leash—but then, he liked that, too.

Spy began to slip into French and Spanish soon enough, something he only did when overwhelmed with pleasure. He could see Sniper getting closer and closer to cumming, and when he could last no longer, he demanded, “Cum in me, cum for me!” His legs squeezed even tighter and he pulled hard on the leash, forcing Sniper down over him, cumming on both of them.

Sniper cried out, his whole body shuddering as he spent deep inside Spy. He managed to slide his hands behind Spy’s head, locking them even closer together.

Spy came down with a shudder, kissing Sniper over and over, happily. “That was great.” He didn’t need to tell Sniper how much he’d loved the leash. He could tell his lover felt the same.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” Sniper agreed, breathlessly, kissing Spy back just as many times.  _ “You’re _ great,” he laughed.

“You too,” he smiled, releasing Sniper with his legs so the man could properly get on the bed with him.

Sniper settled beside him with a happy sigh, tucking up his legs the way he liked. This bed  _ was _ long enough for him to stretch out on, but he still usually preferred to sleep and snuggle curled up.

Spy pressed in against him, head against his shoulder. They spoke quietly until both of them grew too sleepy to talk.

 


	26. Sundays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our final chapter

Sniper hated Sundays. He got to wake up with Spy beside him, but they both knew he’d have to leave before nightfall, and they’d have to face each other in battle the next morning.

Spy didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay wrapped up in Sniper’s arms, in their camper, for the next week.

They’d been sleeping—and waking up—together long enough for Sniper to be able to tell when Spy was awake. He shifted slightly to let Spy know he was awake too, stroking Spy’s hair softly. “Morning. Want me to start breakfast?” He tried to keep the note of unhappiness out of his voice.

“Nnn,” he grumbled. “Want to stay in bed, want it to be Saturday again.”

Sniper couldn’t help laughing a little. He nodded, kissing Spy’s forehead. “My thoughts exactly. We’ll just have to make today count, mm?”

Spy grabbed Sniper around the neck and bit into his shoulder, hard.

“Oh god fuck Spy!” Sniper gasped, wrapping his long limbs around Spy, pressing them as close together as he could.

Spy pulled away, took a breath, and bit him again, where his shoulder met the side of his neck, having to push his collar up to get to the spot he wanted.

Sniper cried out wordlessly, hissing as he fought to ride out the pain and embrace the pleasure. “Fuck,” he said, breathily, “you really took that to heart, didn’t you? No wasting time with you!” he laughed.

Spy just laughed around his mouthful of Sniper, finally having to pull back for a proper breath of air, unable to stop laughing. He rolled them, straddling Sniper and pressing him down onto the bed. He scattered bites across his skin, his chest and shoulders, his neck, even down his arms. Some spots were especially sensitive, the inner elbow, the hollow of his hip, the back of his neck, just under his nipple. Spy took extra care to leave hickeys there.

“Are you laughing at me?” Sniper laughed, trying—and failing—to keep a stern expression. He bucked and arched beneath Spy, eyes going wide, mouth open in a silent shout when Spy bit his hip. It was one of his favourite places, though he was sure Spy knew that. He moaned when Spy bit the back of his neck, but it was also enough to pull him out of the moment just a little. “Is everyone going to be able to see that tomorrow?” he asked, frowning hazily at Spy. He loved being bitten there, but he didn’t need to flash a bright red flag at his team, letting them know how he’d spent his weekend. It was bad enough that Demo knew, had apparently known for months!

“A little.” He smiled, leaning his arms on Sniper’s chest and resting his head there. “Your vest has a high collar; it should be alright.”

“True. Pest— _ sex _ pest,” Sniper teased. He was still breathing heavily, sprawled out limp and happy on the bed. “Maybe today won’t be so bad,” he murmured. He felt wonderful, almost dazed. His cock was hard, but in a distant, un-urgent way. He assumed he and Spy would get off eventually, but for now he was content to lie still and savour the volley of bites Spy had inflicted.

Now that Sniper was marked up, Spy grabbed each hickey in turn, pinching them mercilessly.

“God, what you do to me,” Sniper breathed, shaking his head in wonder. “Love you. Love  _ this,”  _ he crooned, rolling from side to side to offer himself up to Spy.

“Love you too.” Spy bit alongside Sniper’s jawline, leaving a very visible red mark under his stubble. No uniform would cover that.

“You’re awful!” Sniper laughed, once he’d stopped moaning. “I’ll have to wear my bandana all day tomorrow…at least until you send me through respawn, mm?”

Spy grinned down at him. “You love it.” He continued to torment Sniper until his own cock started to leak. He rolled off him, patting his thigh to encourage Sniper to curl up there and suck his cock.

“I do, but that doesn’t make you any less of a wicked pest,” Sniper retorted, but he couldn’t help grinning back. Humming softly to himself, he settled himself between Spy’s legs. He began with a long, slow lick up the underside of Spy’s shaft, eyes rolled up to watch Spy’s expression.

Spy smiled, unfocused and so glad to finally be allowing himself to get off. “Good boy,” he crooned.

Sniper shivered, dipping down to take more of Spy. Spy’s praise drove him wild. He hated how predictable it made him, but he couldn’t help himself.

“God, you’re good at this,” Spy groaned.

Sniper hummed in response, pleased. Keeping one hand on Spy’s thigh, he shifted over so he could wrap his other around the base of Spy’s shaft, just squeezing firmly for now without stroking. 

Spy moaned, stroking Sniper’s hair. “My good pet, you’re so good to me,” he breathed. “I’m going to make you cum so hard after this.”

Sniper arched into Spy’s touch just for a moment before ducking his head down again. He shivered, cock twitching a little at Spy’s words. He lightly stroked the underside of Spy’s shaft with his thumb. 

Spy bit into his lip, nails scratching Sniper’s shoulders hard. He aimed for Sniper’s hickeys in particular. It wasn’t much longer before Spy was cumming in Sniper’s mouth. “Oh fuck!” he cried. 

Pulling back just a little, Sniper stroked Spy’s shaft in quick, firm motions. He swallowed hard, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose. 

Collapsing back into the bed, Spy hummed, buzzing with afterglow. “Oh, Mick, you’re fantastic,” he sighed. “Now, what do you want?” he winked.

Breathing a little heavily and wiping his mouth, Sniper propped himself up on one elbow, grinning up at Spy. “Happy to help,” he told Spy, his voice a little raspy. “I’m fine if you need to sit for a moment,” he assured Spy. 

“I’ll sit. But I want to know what you want,” Spy chuckled. He loved making Sniper talk about things he wanted. It was a struggle for him, and Spy loved to challenge him.

“You’re horrible, you know that?” Sniper murmured against Spy’s thigh. “I don’t know!” he laughed, pinching Spy a few times. “Anything!”

“I need more than that,” Spy grinned.

“I…want to get off?”

“Not specific enough!”

“Pest!”

“Brat. What do you want me to do with you?”

“I want you to make me cum!” Sniper laughed. “Fuck, dammit, Spy! Fine. Finger me, or use a toy?”

“Which one?” Spy smirked.

“Really!”

“Really. Which one?”

“Use a toy, then!”

“Which toy?”

“Listen to me carefully—I am going to kill you,” Sniper told him, very slowly, nearly managing to keep a straight face. 

“Mmm,” Spy smiled at him. “That’s no different than every week, so it isn’t much of a threat.”

Sniper couldn’t help laughing at that. “True, true.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, one that goes up my arse, mate. Please.”

Spy managed to stand, wandering over to the drawer where they kept their toys. He pulled them all out and lined them up on the bed. “Can you at least point?”

“I feel like I’m judging a bloody fashion show or something.” Sniper shook his head in fond exasperation. “But I love you.” He pointed to a thick toy on the larger end of Spy’s range. 

“Love you too, pet,” Spy laughed, putting the rest of the toys away. He lubed up the toy, then raised an eyebrow, waiting for Sniper to get into position.

“What, not going to tell me how you want me?” Sniper teased. 

“No. I want you to tell me,” he grinned.

“Sex pest.” Sniper rolled onto his back, sliding into the middle of the bed and spreading his legs.

“Yes, I am,” he agreed, kissing Sniper’s forehead. He sat between the man’s legs and pressed the toy to his hole, just barely breaching him.

“Ahhh…that’s it…” Sniper groaned, rocking his hips down and forward to meet the toy. “It’s a good thing you’re so good at sex, or I don’t know why I’d keep you around.”

“Hah! As though you don’t love me,” Spy snorted. He pushed the toy deeper, slowly, letting Sniper adjust to the thickness of the toy.

“I do. Oh, fuck, Spy, I do!” Panting a little, he grinned up at Spy. “Faster, mate,” he urged, “I can take it.”

Spy let the toy bottom out, then pulled it back out slowly, letting Sniper feel the thick bulge in the middle of the toy, where it was widest. Immediately he worked it back in to the base, and pulled it out again. He continued this, each time his thrusts getting faster, building up the pace from maddeningly slow to quick and hard.

“God! Spy!” Sniper barked. He curled his toes into the blanket, hands grabbing fistfuls of sheets as he fought to lay still and let Spy fuck him. 

"Oh, are you getting close already?" Spy teased. "I'll take that as a compliment."

“Yeah,” Sniper readily agreed, grinning. His forehead was beaded with sweat. “Sucking you always gets me going.”

Spy worked the toy in and out of Sniper, twisting it, pressing it deep and working it back out. "I've noticed. It gets me going too," he laughed. He leaned his head against Sniper's knee, looking down at the prone and gasping man beneath him affectionately. Every once in awhile it would just hit him, how much he loved Sniper, and he couldn't help but watch him, whatever he happened to be doing. Not that his attention had been elsewhere before, but his expression softened slightly into a smile. "Handsome," he murmured. He took Sniper's cock in his free hand, stroking him slowly from base to tip.

“That is sort of the point,” Sniper teased, looking up at Spy with open adoration. “Beautiful. Fuck, I’m not going to last long if you keep that up, mate!” 

"Then cum for me," Spy instructed, still stroking slowly, the toy's wide bulb opening Sniper up to its widest point, making his thighs tremble. 

“F-fuck!” Sniper gasped. That was enough for him, and he started cumming across his chest and stomach, shamelessly fucking himself on the toy, nearly pulling it out of Spy’s hand in his eagerness. 

Spy grinned, making sure the toy didn't pop out as Sniper's muscles clenched tight enough to push it out. He stroked him until Sniper's body seemed to melt into the bed, completely undone. Spy took the toy out and leaned off the bed to put it on the counter to clean later. He grabbed a cloth, wiped the semen off Sniper and tossed the cloth next to the toy. He lay next to Sniper, kissing each of his hickeys.

“Ohhhhh, mate, you’re amazing,” Sniper crooned, pressing himself as close to Spy as physically possible. He laughed. “I was worried it was going to pop out a few times, but you didn’t let it.”

"What do you take me for?" he grinned. "I'm a sex pest, not just any kind of pest. I know how to fuck my boyfriend."

“True.” Sniper grinned, feeling a little glow at the word ‘boyfriend.’ He wondered if he’d ever get tired of hearing it. Hopefully not. “You certainly do.”

"I should get a medal," he sighed, resting his head on Sniper's shoulder.

“You should. I’m sure Soldier could whip you up something. ...though maybe we won’t tell him what it’s for, mmm?”

Spy just laughed.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not taking me seriously, mmm?” Sniper mock-pouted. “You’ve gotten what you wanted from me and now you’re done, is that it?”

"Mhm," Spy said, closing his eyes. "I've been with you for almost a year just to take advantage of you today."

“I knew it. The long con.” Sniper rolled to kiss Spy’s temple. “Holy dooley, has it really almost been a year?”

Spy nodded. "I feel like our first week together crammed in all the awkwardness of the first couple months of dating. There's only so much you can worry about impressing a man after he's seen you piss outside while surrounded by hippies."

“Which one of us do you mean, mmm?” Sniper laughed. “But...I think you’re right.” He sighed contentedly. “Would you mind if I said something...mushy?”

"I meant both of us," he said. He opened his eyes to give Sniper a sidelong look. "We practically live together, Mick, of course you can say something 'mushy'."

“True.” Sniper couldn’t help blushing beneath Spy’s intense gaze. He always liked when Spy called him Mick, but especially when he was doing it to be intimate. “Do you have to say it like that?” he asked, laughing. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath, then shook his head and closed it again. 

"Oh, don't change your mind now!" Spy poked him in the side. "You said you were going to say it, you can't go back on it now."

“I can change my mind whenever I like,” Sniper retorted, playfully sulky. 

Spy whined. 

“Oh, now that’s not fair!” Sniper shook his head again. “I-I was just thinking...it seems like we just started, but like we’ve always been together, at the same time.” He burrowed his face into Spy’s hair with embarrassment. 

"Yes," Spy sighed. "I know what you mean." Though it had only been about ten months now, it felt like they had always known each other.

He'd never felt this connected to anyone before. 

Sniper sighed softly with relief, sniffing when he got a nose full of Spy’s hair. “I’m glad it’s not just me,” he murmured. 

"Mmm," Spy stifled a yawn. "We should make breakfast." He made no effort to get up or release Sniper.

“Probably,” Sniper agreed, snuggling even closer. 

"Mmm. Later."

“That’s more like it.” Sniper rewarded him with a kiss. “Maybe...much later?” he suggested. 

"Mhm," Spy agreed. He was too comfortable to move.

“I hate Sundays. Actually, I don’t know which I hate more—Sundays or Mondays. At least I don’t have to kill you on Sundays.” He stroked Spy’s chest dreamily. 

"I prefer Sunday to Monday," he chuckled. "I get to spend more time with you. And wake up with you."

“Agreed. I just wish they didn’t have Mondays looming over them. You wouldn’t have a gadget that can make it always Saturday, do you?”

Spy laughed. "Yes, it's called an incorrect calendar."

“Well, let’s set that up, see how long it takes for anyone to notice, mm?”

Though Spy had been thinking about 'permanent Saturday' in his own way, he hesitated to share his idea with Sniper. He'd been thinking about breaking contract, with Sniper. Traveling the world. No longer shooting and stabbing each other all week. But Sniper was such a professional. Would he ever go for that?

Sniper shifted, sitting up a little so he could see Spy’s face. “You look like you’re thinking hard about something.”

Spy scowled. "Stop knowing me so well."

“I’ll do my best,” Sniper agreed, solemnly. 

Spy sighed deeply and flopped over onto Sniper's chest. "I just don't want to do this for another..." he calculated when his contract would be finished. "...seven years."

Sniper wrinkled his nose, wrapping both arms—and then legs, for good measure—around Spy. “Me neither,” he whispered. 

Spy looked up at him a little more seriously. "Would you...?" he didn't want to finish his question.

“Would I...?” Sniper prompted, sounding hopeful, his heart in his throat.

For once it was Spy who didn't want to elaborate and Sniper prompting him to add detail. "I... we could leave?"

Sniper swallowed hard. “R-really? Just like that? I’m not saying I don’t want to,” he added quickly, “I’m just worried there might be...complications.”

"Of course there would be," Spy agreed. "We'd be on the lam. The Administrator doesn't like to be betrayed."

“I mean, ‘betrayed’ seems like a bit much...” Sniper said, not even convincing himself. They both knew all too well that was how she’d see it.

"I just..." Spy sighed. He was quiet for a long time. "I guess I want more."

“M-me too,” Sniper agreed. He sounded terrified. “I’m tired of...of spending weekends and furloughs with you and killing you the rest of the time. I’m tired of thinking of you as an enemy, even for a few hours a day.”

Spy nodded. Again, there was a long silence. "Could we do it?"

“Well, I guess that depends what you mean. I’m sure, between the two of us, we have the skills to disappear—I’m assuming you’ve made sure there are no bugs in here?—but...she’s got resources we can’t possibly match or even imagine.” He laughed softly. “Well, I can’t, anyway.”

"There aren't any bugs," he said. He did check once in awhile, and wasn't terribly worried with Sniper's brand new camper. "I... I know the basics of what she would do to track us down. If we disappear outs ide of a city for long enough, we'll likely be alright. But we'd have to be on alert for years, ready to leave any time, ready to fight."

Sniper laughed. “Sounds like most of my life, to be honest.” He squeezed Spy’s hand. 

Spy couldn't believe they were actually considering it. He'd guiltily daydreamed about it. He'd assumed that Sniper wouldn't want to do something not only dangerous, but absolutely the opposite of professional. "Are we really talking about this? Seriously?" he checked.

“I was actually going to ask you that,” Sniper murmured, shaking his head slowly. “I... I think we are.”

"I- I think we should think it over. Take the week apart to really think about what we want and what this means." Spy turned his face down again, leaning his cheek against Sniper's chest. "And next weekend, we can decide, together."

Sniper sighed heavily, even opening his mouth to protest, to insist that he was fully committed. They could leave tonight. He forced himself to close it and nod. It was a while before he could speak. “You’re right. I hate it, but I know you’re right.” He gave a soft, amused huff. “I’m no good at keeping secrets. You aren’t worried I’ll...give us away somehow?”

"You don't talk to anyone, Mick," Spy laughed. "How could you possibly give us away?"

“You’re right!” Sniper crowed. “Yeah, I just have to avoid everyone, and no one would find that strange.” For the first time in his life, the thought of spending a week alone made him feel...lonely, rather than free. 

Spy nuzzled against his chest, stroking his hand over his lover's skin. He closed his eyes. It was going to be a long week.

 

***

 

It was the longest week of Sniper’s life—including the week he’d spent in a tree waiting for the perfect shot. He hoped Spy was doing better than him, because he was a mess. He was barely sleeping or eating, which didn’t help with his paranoid fear that the Administrator knew their plan. He fought ruthlessly and joylessly. He defended himself when Spy penetrated his nests, but was ashamed to admit he turned a blind eye a few times when he saw Spy—or signs that he might be nearby—through his scope.

 

***

 

It was the longest week of Spy’s life –including the week he spent in isolation as a captive after messing up a job. He wondered how Sniper was doing, but it was hard to tell with the few times that they saw each other. Spy avoided Sniper as much as he could, but every time he followed his lover up to stab him, it only further convinced him how much he wanted to leave. To never have to hurt Mick again.

He knew what he wanted to do by Tuesday.

  
  
***

 

Finally it was post-battle on Friday. Sniper had never been so relieved to retreat to his camper. “Spy?” he called out softly, after he’d closed the door behind himself. Hopefully. “You here already?”

Spy was sitting on the bed, which was tucked away in the back of the camper, next to the little bathroom. He stood and walked into the main area of the camper, wrapping an arm around Sniper's neck. He was worried about their choices. Not only was he afraid of what would happen if they left, but he was concerned that maybe Sniper had changed his mind.

Sniper smiled softly, pulling Spy close. “I think I can see what you decided.”

Spy snuggled up into him. "Yes. I'm scared, but I'm more scared we'll be stuck here for years, killing each other."

Sniper nodded. “Exactly.” He exhaled slowly and deeply on Spy’s shoulder. “And, like I said, it’s not exactly new for either of us. It’ll be hard, especially at first—I don’t know about you, but this place has made me a little rusty—but...we’ll manage. Right?” He felt a little exhausted after saying so much. 

Spy nodded. "Do you have any arrangements you need to make?" Spy had waited to hear Sniper's decision, but he had some contacts to call, and he was planning to fake their deaths within a few months of them leaving. It would be easier with some help.

“Nothing comes to mind.” Sniper laughed, a little nervously. “Don’t suppose we can say goodbye to anyone here, can we?”

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Spy agreed. "We can leave Sunday, if you'll be prepared by then?"

“Don’t exactly have anything to pack.” Sniper gestured at the camper. “Unless...we’re not taking this?” He tried not to sound disappointed—he hadn’t had the van long but he was already rather attached to it. Still—they could always get another camper; Spy was what was important. “I guess just getting the money out of my account? You’d be better at that than me.”

"We're taking the camper, we can afford to get it on a boat or a plane. I just need to make some arrangements myself before we go, I have some people to call and travel arrangements to make, and I do have a few things to pack. And what do you mean about your account?" Spy cocked his head. "You can't get into it by yourself?"

“I mean...I probably could,” Sniper mumbled, looking away from Spy. He felt dizzy, like the world was rushing past him and he was scrambling just to stay still. 

"You never have before," Spy realized. "Dios mio, Sniper, have you never touched your account? How much money is in there?!"

“I don’t know!”

"Well we certainly won't have to worry about money!" Spy laughed. "Give me the information you have about your account and I'll get it for you."

Sniper nodded. Luckily his banking information—untouched—had been in his lock box. He rummaged around a little until he found the shiny new one Spy had given him—the old one had been blackened with soot and reeked of smoke and it upset him every time he saw it. He opened it and passed the papers he recognized to Spy. His face still felt hot—even though Spy had never shown any sign of looking down on him for being illiterate, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed whenever it came up.

Spy saw the flush and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I trust you to prep this place for travel? And get it ready for possible attacks?" Spy was sure Sniper would have a better idea of defending a camper than he would. "If you can get weapons from your base without anyone finding out, do it. Stock up on your ammo."

Sniper nuzzled against Spy’s face. “Yeah, I can do all of that. It’s just too bad we couldn’t throw them off by making it look like the camper’s still here...”

"Actually, that would be easy, but your team will notice two campers briefly being here, or your camper being here after they hear you drive away."

“I don’t think anyone would if we left in the middle of the night...”

"Maybe," Spy shrugged. "We'll find out, I suppose."

“How would you do it, anyway?” Sniper sat on the bed, drawing Spy down with him. “Love you,” he murmured, almost shyly. 

"Easy. Get a camper shell that matches this one and leave it here." He sighed. "I guess I'll be leaving my car behind."

Sniper nodded. “If you can manage it, I think you should. Even if it only stalls them for an hour, it’s worth it.” He grinned. “I was hoping your answer would be something more ...technological,” he teased. “Sorry, mate. If there’s enough money in my account, I’ll buy you one, mmm?” Sniper promised, kissing Spy’s cheek.

"I'd rather keep all my tech if possible," Spy admitted. "I could make some kind of camper cloak, I think, but it would be difficult and not worth it." He leaned into the kiss, distractedly. "My tech is worth far more than a camper shell."

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” Sniper agreed. “You alright, mate?” He laughed, reaching over to gently massage Spy’s head. “Lots of plans running in here?”

“Yes, lots,” he grinned. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

"For the massage," he said, as though it were obvious. "I'll let you know the plan as soon as I know it." It would depend on what contacts he could get in touch with, and what they could do for him.

“Oh!” Sniper laughed. “Of course, you looked tense.” He tried to hide his disappointment. “Will it be...later than Sunday, then?"

"No. Sunday, we leave. I just need to make some calls and figure out our plan from there. I can have a lot of things done very quickly. I did spend the week thinking about this," he admitted.

Sniper briefly closed his eyes with relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” He slid his hands down to Spy’s neck and kept massaging. “So did I. Every minute, I think.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “If it had been even a day longer I think I would’ve cracked.”

Spy gave a groan, leaning into Sniper. "Oh, that's good. I... I really hate to do this, but I can't stay with you this weekend, Mick. I have too much to do. But I'll see you on Sunday," he promised.

Sniper nodded again, trying to keep his face neutral so he wouldn’t make Spy feel bad. “I understand.” He kissed Spy’s cheek with a soft grin. “And then...I have you all to myself? Forever?” Fuck, this was crazy. What if they got tired of each other? What if the Administrator captured one of them? He buried his face in Spy’s hair, inhaling his scent deeply. He thought he’d considered every possibility during their week apart, but now his head was full of doubt and fear. 

"Yes," Spy said, his voice soft and tender. He could hear Sniper's fear in his voice, and he wanted to comfort him, but he also didn't want to voice all his own fears and put them out into the world. "I'll see you on Sunday."   


 

  
  
**Six months later**

 

Laurent stepped out into the morning sunrise, stretching.

He’d been woken up by a phone call, and he didn’t think he could get back to sleep.

Laurent didn’t have to look to know where Mick was. He climbed the ladder on the side of the camper, pulling himself up to the top. Mick was lying in the sun, hat pulled over his face. He still tended to wake up a little earlier than Laurent, and instead of bustling about in the camper and waking him up, he tended to go up and watch the sunrise, or lie in the sun like a cat.   


“I have good news.” Laurent smiled. He still looked sleepy. “We’ve officially been declared dead.”

Lifting the hat from his face, Mick snorted. “Not what most people would consider good news—I don’t think. I’m never really sure about ‘normal’ people.” He slid across the roof, the metal already beginning to warm in the heat of the day. “Well, how did we die, then?” he asked, leaning forward to give Laurent’s forehead a kiss as he climbed from the ladder to the top of the camper. 

“We haven’t ever been normal.” Laurent shook his head, rolling his eyes a little with a smile. “One of Mann Co.’s spies murdered us and dumped our bodies. Fortunately, she and I have always been on the same side, and she was willing to help us out.” Laurent settled up on top of the vehicle, leaning into Mick.

“You…trust her?” Mick asked, a little tentatively, gently pulling Laurent closer. He didn’t want to make it sound like he didn’t trust Laurent—he did—or doubt his abilities—he didn’t—but he couldn’t help worrying. “Wouldn’t the Administrator want to see our bodies? Ugh. I feel a little sick,” Mick laughed. “Not sure I like thinking about this. Thank you for…taking care of…well, everything. I haven’t been much use except as a driver. Even then, I’ve mostly only been going where you tell me to. At least until we got here.” They were in Brazil—possibly slightly over the border into Bolivia or Paraguay—headed farther south for Uruguay until they could make a longer-term plan.

Initially they’d simply wanted to get as much distance between them and any of the Mann Co. bases without having to cross an ocean and have their camper in a shipping manifest—Sniper had no doubt that Spy could make sure they didn’t appear on any official documentation, but it was much easier to track a camper on a ship than the road. Easier to destroy, too. 

“I do. And I trust her to make it look real. She’s very good, and she owes me.” Laurent pressed in against Mick happily. “Don’t worry, Mick. If anything goes wrong, I’ll know. We’ve made arrangements to keep in touch for awhile, so if anyone is suspicious of her or anything happens to her, we’ll know quickly.” He stroked his fingers through Mick’s hair. “I’ve helped people fake their deaths before.”

“Of course you have.” Mick shook his head. “That’s not exactly comforting,” he laughed, shaking his head at Laurent. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”   



End file.
